Read Part 1.
Salome’s grandfather, David Kobulashvili, who graduated from the Sorbonne with a degree in horse breeding, voluntarily left for Central Asia in self-imposed exile after the revolution. He feared repression and took up sheep breeding. After a phone call to Georgia, local authorities were told not to bother the Georgian nobleman, since he had agreed to “voluntarily work for the good of the homeland.”
In 1921, Salome’s grand grandmother, Nina Eristavi, was forced to “gift the state” their family home, and the former owners had to move into the basement of their own house. “It so happened that my father was born in the basement of his own house,” Salome exclaims. “That was the only way they managed to survive.”
Salome shows me an old family album with photographs, compiled long ago by her grandfather, David Kobulashvili. He tried to pass on to his descendants not only visual memories, but also meticulously described all family ties, so that no one would ever get confused about who was who. David himself, a handsome young man with excellent posture, is captured in photographs riding a horse.
“Horses were his passion,” Salome notes. “And never, not once in his life, did we hear him regret what he had lost, what had been taken from him. There was no talk of it! David always said that all these things are acquired: today you don’t have it, yesterday you did, and suddenly, maybe tomorrow you will again. My grandmother raised us the same way. But they never discussed the Soviet regime. That was a closed topic.”
It’s noteworthy that in his advanced years, David Kobulashvili worked at the Georgian film studio as a “consultant on good manners.” From one photograph, where he is depicted at a very advanced age, a man with mischievous, childlike eyes, the embodiment of kindness and amiability, smiles broadly at us.
“In my childhood, talking about our origins was not only uncommon but also scary, and we, of course, didn’t show anything off; it was considered bad taste. I learned the story of Prince Baryatinsky from my grandmothers. After the collapse of the USSR, when there was no electricity or gas in the country, no one in Georgia cared about the return of property expropriated by the Soviet authorities. And only in the 1990s were we able to piece together the once-severed family threads, re-establishing contact with descendants of that branch of our family who had left for France after the Russian Revolution.”
Though much water has flowed under the bridge since that distant time when Evgeny invited expensive foreign masters to work for him, and David gallantly rode across Georgian expanses on his lush-maned steeds, history arranged it so that exactly one hundred years later, his heiress Salome Kobulashvili, the great-great-great-granddaughter of King Erekle II, could invite her friends and acquaintances to her family home for the grand “Returning Home” exhibition. That year, the Academy of Arts turned 100 years old, and Arshakuni House celebrated its 120th anniversary. This marked the completion of another historical cycle.
“I have a quiet, calm pride in our family history, and now, after the exhibition, it’s as if I have some new connection with my ancestors,” the artist confesses to me.
I wonder how she feels today within the walls of the current Academy of Arts, her ancestral home? “The first time my grandmother brought me here, she whispered in my ear: ‘Salome, you are little now, but you should know that this is your home!’ As we climbed the beautiful staircase, I realized for the first time why grandmother, when reading me fairy tales about princesses, would say: ‘Salome, you are our princess!'”
The Princess-Dentist
How do princesses become dentists, and then, on top of that, virtuosic artists? Salome’s inclination towards art was encouraged by her grandmother Mana, who “created heaven on earth” by engaging the girl in all sorts of handicrafts and cooking. Her desire to enter an art academy was a logical step. But, beyond all this, her grandmother also knew how to prepare amazing magical ointments with which she treated half the town, while her granddaughter assisted her. This is how Salome’s interest in healing began.
Her mother influenced her career choice, advising her daughter to pick something practical that would provide a regular income, allowing her to support herself. “Mom said that since I wasn’t afraid of blood on my hands, I’d do well in dentistry, and then I could even think about facial plastic surgery. And I liked that because facial plastic surgery is an amazing thing, just like drawing and sculpting.” After graduating from medical school, Salome completed a substantial internship at a large international clinic opened in Moscow by her uncle, a representative of the French line of the Kobulashvili family. Upon returning to Tbilisi, Salome opened her own small dental practice right in her apartment, where friends and acquaintances, knowing the warm welcome awaiting them, happily flocked. Thus, many people gradually learned about Salome’s art of healing, including Eduard Shevardnadze, who had by then retired from politics.
The Most Famous Patient
However, Salome had one truly special patient in her career. It so happened that Alain Delon arrived as the host for opera star Paata Burchuladze’s sixtieth birthday celebration. One morning, Salome received a call asking her to reschedule her first patient to accommodate an important guest, stating that the person urgently needed to be “saved.”
“And then the door opened – and in walked Alain Delon himself! It was the first and last time in my life my hand shook when I was giving an anesthetic! The artist fell asleep in the chair, purring. Many men fall asleep during my appointments. It’s probably from stress. And when he woke up, he stood up, looked at his teeth, and said, ‘Can I kiss you?'”
The Princess-Artist: A Path to Freedom
Salome calls herself a true darling of fate. The main confirmation of this is her art, which has become for her “a path of liberation and peace of mind.”
Salome’s foray into art began with decorating her friend’s exhibition with miniature figurines. This friend was the famous sculptor Tamar Kvesitadze (author of the “Ali and Nino” sculpture in Batumi).
And then Svaneti happened to her… When she first arrived in the mighty mountainous region, the artist recalls, “it was a Klondike.” She collected many different stones there, without really knowing why she needed them. But when the pandemic hit, those Svanetian stones came in very handy, transforming into works of art. “I developed a concept: if a stone reminds me of some movement, I only complement it with something, breathing life into it,” Salome says with enthusiasm.
Her childhood dreams of ballet gave rise to elegant dancers, and her subconscious produced, one after another, mythical creatures, goddesses, deities, and ancient symbols. And in this way, we, the beholders, involuntarily embark on a wonderful journey into the soul of the talented, blue-blooded enchantress, Salome. For her works, Salome uses stone, glass, and wood, which she then complements with elements cast from bronze and other metals, finally processing them with a dental drill.
“During the pandemic, my art became an escape from reality for me. When I’m working, I get an incredible dose of adrenaline, as well as immense pleasure! Moreover, in the flow of creation, I feel incredibly in love. But most importantly, I don’t depend on my clients, because I don’t have any. For me, art isn’t a way to make money; it’s my path to freedom.”
Soon, with the help of friends, Salome had a website, a visual presentation of her work, which came in very handy during the pandemic because most exhibitions and art competitions were held online then. This is how Salome discovered the incredible success her art enjoys and the awards and prizes she receives at international exhibitions: Spain, Italy, Portugal, the UAE, the USA – this is just the initial list of countries where Salome’s works have caused a sensation.
The Miracle of the Georgian Spirit
“How accurate is my feeling that every Georgian harbors incredible creative potential? Why does such a small nation have so many gifted people?” I asked Salome. “There are very few of us Georgians, perhaps less than five million. But life has really beaten us,” Salome muses aloud. “How many empires have perished over millennia, and we are still here! It’s a true miracle of God that we still exist! I think humor and detachment from problems have saved us over the centuries. We Georgians always subconsciously surrender ourselves to the mercy of the Lord. And in difficult situations, we usually have so much humor and childlike spontaneity that these very qualities prove to be our salvation.”
The story of Salome Kobulashvili and her legacy, both historic and artistic, once again confirm that Georgia is not only a treasure trove of incredible talents but also a land of wonders, where life generously bestows amazing surprises.
BLOG by Tatjana Montik
