Issues

How Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan are laying down tracks for the future with the BTK railway

A queue of trucks stretches from the Cildir-Aktas border crossing into the green mountains. This almost permanent bottleneck is a symptom of disputes that have left Cildir-Aktas as one of the few overland portals for goods travelling into the Caucasus. Wedged between Turkey, Russia and Iran, the region covers an area that is smaller than Sweden and sits at the heart of the old Silk Road. Yet today it is difficult to traverse by land. On one side of Cildir-Aktas is Turkey and on the other, where the modern road suddenly turns into pitted track, is Georgia. The trucks groan around corners and dodge potholes as they crank into gear.

The three Caucasian countries – Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan – were once part of the Soviet Union and have often forged fraught relations with each other since it collapsed. Armenia and Azerbaijan have long been embroiled in a territorial conflict and there’s no way to travel directly between them. Turkey, a staunch ally of the latter, closed its land border with Armenia in solidarity. To travel from Turkey to Armenia, you have to pass through Cildir-Aktas and head 25km inside Georgia, before doglegging south across the border. Since 2022, EU sanctions over the war in Ukraine have put extra pressure on the crossing: it is now also one of the few land routes through which goods can travel by land to Russia.

In clear view of the border gate, the Baku-Tbilisi-Kars (BTK) railway line cuts a parallel path. The line, which was first touted by Ankara in 1993, links Kars in eastern Turkey to Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, and then to Azerbaijan’s, Baku, making a wide loop north to bypass Armenia. It opened for cargo in 2017 and is part of a route that can bring goods from China into the EU in 12 days.

In 2018, Azerbaijan Railways announced that a passenger train would begin service on the route. The first stretch, heading east from Kars to Tbilisi, passes through mountains and winds around lakes and provincial towns. From Tbilisi, the line turns southeast to Baku; a 12-hour sleeper train will deliver you to its grand 19th-century station at 08.00. In May 2019, Turkish and Azerbaijani national railways announced that the journey from Ankara to Baku would take about 40 hours and cost between €50 and €120.

But when Monocle set out to travel on the BTK, we discovered that we could not. Newly built stations are listed on booking sites but no service times appear. Online, enthusiasts ask when the trains will come. We eventually discovered that the only way to make the trip by public transport involved a long bus ride, a stop-off in Batumi on Georgia’s Black Sea coast (120km in the wrong direction), a train to Tbilisi and an expensive one-hour flight to Baku. No part of the passenger line from Kars to Tbilisi is working and Azerbaijan hasn’t opened its land borders since 2020. So we journeyed by foot, car, train and plane – a trip that took three days and served as a stark lesson on the region’s shifting relations.

Stop one
Akhalkalaki, Georgia

Our train crosses the border from Turkey into Georgia and stops for passport control at Akhalkalaki, an ethnic Armenian enclave. The Russian army was the biggest employer here until 2007, when it closed its base amid worsening relations between Moscow and Tbilisi. Many jobs went with it and today the town’s poorest residents occupy decrepit former military housing. Of the three Caucasus nations, Armenia has maintained the closest ties with Russia. Many in Akhalkalaki have Armenian passports alongside their Georgian ones so that they can work in Russia and send back remittances. But recent events in another Armenian enclave 300km from Akhalkalaki have shifted the regional power balance.

Last September, Azerbaijan seized full control of the disputed Nagorno-Karabakh region, displacing some 120,000 ethnic Armenians. Russia, the guarantor of a ceasefire in the territory, had given tacit approval to Baku. Armenia has turned against Vladimir Putin as a result and, in October, voted to recognise the International Criminal Court. Russia’s president, who has been indicted for war crimes in Ukraine, now risks arrest if he steps foot in Armenia. The sentiment has rippled out to Akhalkalaki.

“Russia is weak now,” says Rima Gharibyan, director of the Javakheti Information Centre, a local news site. “Attitudes in Armenia are changing. People don’t like Russian politics but they are economically dependent on the country. If Moscow decides that we’re not a friendly country, it could expel Armenian workers, like it did to Georgians in 2008.”

The BTK was supposed to bring Akhalkalaki an economic boost. Its international station, a curved structure designed by German architect Jürgen Mayer, was completed in 2018 but never opened. Work on the line was beset with delays and locals employed on the project protested after they were not paid for months. Businesses in Akhalkalaki still can’t receive deliveries from the station, even though the cargo line is working. Instead, they have to collect them from Tbilisi, 180km away.

Some believe that the passenger trains will never come. “We have asked Georgian Railway about them but no one knows,” says Gharibyan. “Georgia doesn’t feel that it owns this project – it’s between Turkey and Azerbaijan. We just happen to be in the middle.”

Stop Two
Tbilisi, Georgia

There is, at least, a new road from Akhalkalaki to Tbilisi. It opened in 2010 and runs alongside the BTK, cutting through mountains where shepherds herd sheep over the tracks. This journey took almost all day on the old roads; now it can be completed in three hours. By lunchtime, Monocle is in Tbilisi. Georgia’s capital is the cultural heart of the Caucasus: a hub for digital nomads, a hipster food destination and a refuge for Russians escaping Putin’s mobilisation. The Georgian government estimates that there are about 112,000 Russians in the country but Tbilisi’s streets are daubed with anti-Russian graffiti. It’s the most visible sign of the growing disconnect between the country’s people and its political elite.

We meet former public defender Nino Lomjaria in Stamba, a Soviet-era printworks that now houses a luxury hotel, gallery, restaurant and co-working space. Young creatives, including some Russians, sip coffee in the central courtyard. But the urban vibe belies Georgia’s worrying trajectory. “The situation is changing so rapidly,” says Lomjaria. “A year ago, I wouldn’t have imagined that we would be in this situation, even in my nightmares.” She stepped down from her state position in December 2022. Georgia, once the Caucasian nation moving westwards fastest, has taken an anti-democratic turn since 2018.

Its pro-Russian ruling party, Georgian Dream, has declined to join sanctions on Moscow. Even as Georgia moves through the process of joining the EU, its government is throwing stumbling blocks in its own path. The party hopes to cling to power in October’s general elections by claiming that Nato and the EU are trying to drag Georgia into Ukraine’s war.

“The fear of war is effective because it’s a recent trauma,” says Dachi Imedadze, a member of the Shame Movement, a pro-European youth organisation founded in 2019. “According to the government’s propaganda, it is the peacekeeper and the opposition is trying to provoke war with Russia.” In 2021 the Shame Movement’s then offices were attacked by a right-wing mob. Its new base, in a block of flats in the Tbilisi Hills, is decorated with anti-Putin paraphernalia: posters and stickers declaring, “Never back to the USSR”.

But relations between Tbilisi and Moscow have warmed over the past year. The Kremlin has lifted its ban on direct flights to and from Georgia and a Russian cruise ship recently docked in Batumi. Last year thousands of Georgians demonstrated against a proposed law that would have allowed the government to crack down on ngos and journalists that it accused of being “foreign agents” (almost identical legislation was passed in Russia in December 2022). Though the bill was dropped, many fear that the government will try again.

In September, Lomjaria launched a civil society platform, Georgia’s European Orbit, hoping to work outside party politics to keep Georgia on its westward path. “This year’s elections are a referendum on Europe or Russia,” she says. “My fear is that if we don’t get EU status, we might stay in the Russian orbit.”

Stop Three
Baku, Azerbaijan

Our flight from Tbilisi lands at Baku Airport’s domestic terminal. Here the conflict in Nagorno-Karabakh is inescapable. The boulevards into the city are lined with flags. In a park between the Caspian Sea and a shopping centre, Armenian military hardware seized from the conflict is on display: burnt-out tanks and ancient howitzers, all Soviet-made. Baku’s victory expanded its reach and won it clout in its neighbourhood and beyond. Until recently, Armenia enjoyed the support of both Iran and Russia but the totality of its defeat has shifted the realpolitikal equation in the Caucasus.

In Baku’s Synagogue of Ashkenazi Jews, a haven of books, domes and velvet in the ever-developing city centre, Rabbi Shneor Segal reflects on his adopted country’s unique foreign policy. Segal, an Israeli, came here 13 years ago. Azerbaijan is one of the few Muslim nations to maintain warm relations with Israel, a friendship based on trade and security co-operation (Israeli weapons helped Baku win in Nagorno-Karabakh). Azerbaijan’s Jewish community numbers about 25,000 people. “In Baku, you can see a visitor from Israel next to one from Iran,” says Segal.

Azerbaijan has practical aims for Nagorno-Karabakh. The newly won area provides the country with a far more direct route from Baku to the border with Turkey that is half the length of the BTK’s loop. Baku has started building a railway and a road leading westwards to Nakhchivan, an exclave of Azerbaijan next to Turkey. But a 40km-strip of Armenian territory blocks the route, a barrier known as the Zangezur corridor. Baku is in negotiations with Tehran to skirt south into Iran and sidestep the stretch.

Officials in Baku insist that this new railway will not render the BTK obsolete. Instead, it will add to a growing network that reflects the region’s evolving connections. In May 2023, Russia and Iran signed a deal to build a railway from Astara, on the Iranian-Azerbaijani border, to Rasht, on the Persian Gulf. It will be part of a route that will eventually stretch from St Petersburg to Mumbai, crossing both Armenia and Azerbaijan on the way.

Further south, there are plans to restore the old line from Mosul in Iraq to Gaziantep in Turkey. If the BTK ever begins service, it will add to the Caucasus’s growing importance as a link between Europe and Asia, and between Russia, Turkey and Iran. These relationships have the potential to define the future of the region and the world. Many leaders, especially those in the West, will be hoping that these planned railways hit the buffers.

An Italian town is reviving its heritage through an ancestral festival

It is mid-afternoon in the southern Italian mountain town of Satriano di Lucania when the forest begins, unmistakably, to walk. More than 100 trees are advancing through the narrow streets and every one is obscured by a teepee made from ivy vines, leaving visible only human arms and feet – a primitive disguise bonding people and nature that’s known in this town as the rumita, or “hermit”.

An ancestral tradition dating back to at least medieval times, the figure of the rumita is said to have emerged from a solitary lair in the wilderness, disguised by ivy leaves, to visit homes and receive food or small change in return for a blessing. Today, thanks to a new generation’s efforts, the rumita festival has evolved. Tree people still roam the streets every last Sunday of the carnival season but they’re now followed by a boisterous afternoon march of an entire copse of trees, with hundreds on hand to watch the arboreal ambulation.

In Italy, and especially in southern regions such as Basilicata, small towns have been haemorrhaging their younger residents for more than a century, as they emigrated to big cities or abroad in search of opportunity. Quirks and traditions that celebrate the identities of rural communities have been abandoned or forgotten. But Satriano, with just one pizzeria and about 2,000 inhabitants, is bringing back its tradition to help foster a sense of community and connect with the area’s roots.

Though the rumita’s origins have been lost to time, the revised format of the walking forest celebrates its 10th anniversary this year. The idea was hatched by a group of friends whose creative vision has helped to make Satriano a buoyant carnival destination. The new format features 131 people in tree costumes marching to represent the 131 municipalities of Basilicata. The idea of sustainability is central to proceedings and so is the use of biodegradable and recycled materials in the costumes and the event’s trappings.

“I’m a custodian of traditions, like everyone here,” says Rocco Perrone, motioning to an extended group of friends, musicians and performers beside the procession. Perrone has made his love of Satriano a political pursuit, running for mayor at the age of 30 and, since 2019, serving as councillor for “traditions and the sense of community”.

For the walking forest, revellers and Perrone’s pals play accordions and tambourines; others wear bear costumes in fake fur. Some are dressed as woodland sprites and pour red wine into the mouths of tree people through their foliage. They sing raucous folk songs and wave leafy sceptres in the air – occasionally brushing them on a doorway or a child’s head to bestow good fortune.

“When the day comes that our group of friends is no longer leading this carnival, someone from the next generation will step up,” says Perrone. “We’ve created an example for young people here and for other towns to follow. We’re imagining a future for centuries-old traditions – and the town we love.”

Mathieu Lehanneur on the art of crafting the torch for the 2024 Olympics

When French designer Mathieu Lehanneur learned that he had been selected to design the torch and flame-bearing cauldron for the 2024 Olympic Games in Paris, he was overjoyed. “Then my second reaction was fear,” he tells Monocle. “It’s quite rare to design an object that will be seen by four, maybe five, billion people. So I did the only thing that I knew I could do: I got to work.”

The designer is celebrated for imbuing his work with a sense of whimsy, weaving engineering, technology and function with art, craft and aesthetics. Lehanneur has been busy. He was named designer of the year at Paris-based design fair Maison & Objet in January after opening La Factory, his studio-workshop in Ivry-sur-Seine, last year.

In April, 2,000 copies of his torch will be used to relay the Olympic flame from Greece, the birthplace of the Olympic Games, to the heart of the French capital. En route, his design will pass through the hands of more than 10,000 people over the course of three months. “Once it begins its journey, the torch won’t be mine any more,” he says. “It will belong to the world.”

Naturally, every torch is made in France from recycled steel, in partnership with Luxembourg-based manufacturer ArcelorMittal. “The briefing from the Paris 2024 committee about the design of the torch was almost empty beyond the dimensions and weight,” says Lehanneur. “I thought about the value of equality, which is symbolised in the design by the symmetry of the torch. Of course, it’s a reference to the French motto, ‘liberté, égalité, fraternité’, but also to the parity between the Paralympic and Olympic Games, between female athletes and male athletes.” As part of this vision, Lehanneur asked the Olympic and Paralympic committees whether it was possible for both events to share a single design for the first time. In a testament to the designer’s conviction, they agreed.

Next, Lehanneur looked not to postcard monuments such as the Eiffel Tower or Arc de Triomphe for design cues but to the river Seine as an emblem of the French capital. (The Seine will also be the aqueous stage of the Games’ opening ceremony.) To illustrate this contextual clue, Lehanneur added a series of ripples that appear to reverberate upwards from the base of the torch.

“I only realised the power of the Olympic torch after designing it,” says Lehanneur. “When I show it to people, athletes and non-athletes, you can see how deeply moving it is as a symbol. They ask whether they can touch it as though it holds magical power.” On the night of the opening ceremony, Lehanneur’s cauldron, which will hold the Olympic flame throughout the Games, will be revealed. Until that moment, its design is being kept like a state secret. 

As we face war from Ukraine to Gaza, the deployment of national symbolism and the value of pomp and circumstance is a thorny issue for some. What did Lehanneur make of this political and social climate when designing an object intended to stoke national pride? “It’s beautiful to be proud of cultural differences,” he says. “The far-right has appropriated this concept to an extreme but national identity doesn’t belong to the political right or left. It’s time to reclaim it, without implying that one nationality is better than another, without putting up barriers around ourselves, because it makes life more interesting to meet each other. I wasn’t thinking on a national level but I am glad I focused on the notion of equality, because, as a Frenchman, I feel the need to defend this value.”

The design agenda: Copenhagen’s high hopes, Ecuador’s collaborative communities and a royal rumble in Saudi Arabia

City planning – Saudi Arabia
Royal Invitation

Established in 2017, the Royal Commission for Alula is master planning a vast overhaul of its namesake conurbation – an oasis in the Saudi Arabian desert. “We’ve got about 42,000 people living in Alula and the ambition is that by 2035 we’ll have 130,000 residents,” says Navdeep Hanjra, the commission’s vice-president of planning and development. “The only way we can reach those numbers is by ensuring we have policies in place, so that people want to stay.”

It’s an outlook that means Hanjra and her team are placing equal emphasis on improving the built environment and on the social aspects of city living. To deliver this vision, the Royal Commission for Alula has been working with the existing population from the outset. “We have launched a programme for local youth, training them to become guides. This allows them to give tours of the cultural sites in the area and capitalise on the knowledge they have from growing up in Alula,” says Hanjra. “This means they can talk about the more intangible heritage, having heard these stories from their grandfathers and so on.”

For Hanjra, such initiatives help build trust, a key element in delivering a place that makes new and existing residents feel welcome. “The only way you can do that is by involving people from the very start [of the master planning process],” adds Hanjra. “It’s about having a sense of belonging, where people see that the city is working to give back to the community and increasing opportunities for employment. We are putting Alula on the world map.”

On design
Nic Monisse On…
Beauty standards

I spent an early spring weekend in Clearwater Beach – and I can’t say that I plan on returning in a hurry. I found the contrasts in the small Floridian city, just outside Tampa, a little much: it’s a hotspot for college students seeking a beach break as well as elderly Midwesterners escaping the winter cold. Its architecture is equally varied. There are pockets of charming, low-slung condos and hotels from the 1970s and 1980s, with palm trees swaying in front of swimming pools. However, the 21st-century tourist and “snowbird” boom has seen countless big, brash apartment towers, devoid of personality and character, constructed on the beachfront too. The latter are, frankly, ugly.

I’m not alone in thinking this either. Clearwater City Council has been trying to find a way to halt the construction of these monotonous big-builds since the early 2000s. At every turn the local government has been hamstrung by the challenge of legislating for beauty – if a structure fits within the required footprint and height restrictions, it can be difficult to stop its construction on subjective grounds.

Fortunately, there might be a solution: a new book by Thomas Heatherwick, a designer who often plays on the outer reaches of the architectural establishment. Humanise: A Maker’s Guide to Building Our World suggests that while beauty may be subjective, a measure of whether a building is visually “interesting” is much more objective. Heatherwick Studio has developed a metric for calculating whether a structure has high levels of variation, detail and massing – architectural elements that create buildings which are, if not beautiful, certainly more interesting to look at than flat, plain, placeless towers.

While this digital technology is currently only employed by Heatherwick’s team, architects and city governments could use its principles to assess whether new design proposals will add to the visual appeal of a place. Should this happen in Clearwater Beach, I might even consider a return.

Retail – Paris
Orange zest

Out with the old, in with the new, as the adage goes. That’s certainly the case for Japanese fashion label Issey Miyake, which recently swapped its first Paris address on Rue Royale for a prime spot on Rue François 1er. Designed by Tokujin Yoshioka the new flagship occupies a 19th-century stone building in the 8th arrondissement.

A one-time employee of the brand, Tokyo-based Yoshioka retained the structure’s original façade – whose large windows flood the space with natural light – while reimagining its interior.

Inspired by Issey Miyake’s playful, minimalist aesthetic, pristine-white walls contrast with brushed-metal rails, beige stools and walls clad in orange anodised aluminium. “These contrasting colours, particularly the orange, give the impression of the sun,” says Yoshioka, who has designed a number of the brand’s shops over the past 30 years. “It adds a touch of futuristic energy to the space but also a sense of warmth, which reflects the philosophy of the brand.” The outcome? An uplifting spot to shop for your next L’Eau d’Issey fragrance or trademark pleated trouser.

Architecture – Porto
Siza matters

The Porto School, a design movement associated with some of Portugal’s most distinguished creative minds, is today synonymous with the city’s contemporary architectural vernacular. Likewise, the Serralves cultural campus has come to define Portugal’s contemporary art scene. Now these two symbols of Porto have come together in a new space, with the completion of the Serralves museum’s Álvaro Siza Wing, designed by its namesake architect. And while the first exhibitions hosted in the structure will celebrate the work of the Pritzker Prize-winner, this is not the first time Siza has left his imprint on the estate – the nonagenarian architect designed several of the buildings adjacent to the original art-deco Serralves villa.

The new, 4,200 sq m wing has corners that protrude into the sky and geometric cutouts that open up views into the surrounding Serralves park. Spread across three floors, its halls will host exhibitions dedicated to art and architecture. “Álvaro Siza is one of the greatest names in the history of architecture,” says Ana Pinho, CEO of the Serralves Foundation. “Here the Serralves Collection will be on permanent exhibition, while we will have dedicated space for architecture programmes.”

Society – Ecuador
Free for all

Guayaquil, Ecuador’s most populous city, is growing at a rate of more than 50,000 people per year, with new infrastructure needed to cater to new communities. One such project is the Hijos del Suelo (Sons of the Land) communal house in the El Faro de Mapasingue neighbourhood.

Funded by Italian NGO Cooperazione Internazionale, it was designed by local studio BBL, a collaboration between architects Pierre Berrú, Juan Carlos Bamba, and Jorge Ludeña. The trio took on the project pro bono, hosting participatory design sessions with almost 300 local families.

“Our approach stems from the Ecuadorian concept of minga, a tradition where members of the community collaborate on tasks like farming, construction or cleaning – all for free,” says Berrú. “On this project, we did everything through minga, including collecting furniture and objects to put inside the space before it was opened to the public.”

Today the space serves as a kindergarten and event space for the community; social workers also use it for their programmes. “Even with all the rough patches in the neighbourhood, it warms our hearts to see how the locals cherish and look after this building, never messing with it,” says Berrú. “It’s a sign that they’re happy and it shows that the space we created suits their needs just right.”

Urbanism – Copenhagen
Hitting the high notes

Copenhagen’s waterfront has undergone impressive redevelopment in recent decades. A host of cultural institutions and recreational hotspots have been built on the harbour, transforming it from a highly polluted industrial port into one of the most popular destinations in the Danish capital. The latest addition to this ever-evolving urban landscape comes courtesy of local architecture studio Cobe, which was tasked with creating a parking facility for the Opera House. The result? Opera Park, a lush space on top of the requisite underground car park.

“The unused plot was meant for housing but the client scrapped the plan,” says Cobe architect Alexander Ejsing. “Instead, we created a new recreational spot for everyone to use.” The park features winding paths that cross through six gardens with vegetation from different parts of the world, inspired by the area’s history as an international trade hub. 

At the heart of the green space is a glass pavilion with expansive views of the surroundings and water. Inside, a restaurant and café offer seasonal dishes, while a garden of tropical vegetation, which includes a 12-metre-tall tree, leads to the underground parking lot.

Beyond providing a destination for food and drink, the pavilion plays a crucial role in making the green space a year-round destination. “Winters are long here, so we didn’t want the park to be desolate half the year,” says Ejsing. “It’s important we make good use of it.”

The culture agenda: Barcelona’s forbidden treasures and Georgia’s burgeoning art scene

Art – Barcelona
Strike up the banned

A menacing gaze greets visitors as they venture into Barcelona’s newest museum. Perched on a seat beneath the stone staircase, the forbidding face belongs to a papier-mâché figure, which stares through painted-on sunglasses. Made in 1972 as part of the installation “Spectator of Spectators”, it is one of 100 statues made to depict the dictator Francisco Franco’s secret police, then placed among the audience during Pamplona’s Avant-Garde Art Festival. Not everyone was amused. The critique of the ruling regime’s surveillance culture saw many of the pieces destroyed, while others were stolen. Five decades on, the Museu de l’Art Prohibit (Museum of Forbidden Art) plonks a lone survivor in the front seat as a warning of what’s to come. Art, it reminds us, can be emotional, political and even drive people to violence.

Holding up a mirror to our thoughts and feelings is just what journalist and entrepreneur Josep Maria Benet i Ferran (or Tatxo Benet, as he is known) is angling for. “For some people, art is an aesthetic experience; for others, it’s an ethical question,” he tells Monocle. “I’m not very transcendental. For me, art is personal.”

The self-described “free speech absolutist” is a Catalan media mogul who co-founded the Spanish broadcasting powerhouse MediaPro in 1994. When an installation depicting Catalan secessionist leaders made by artist Santiago Serra was censored in 2018 during Madrid’s Arco art fair, Benet acquired the works as an act of solidarity. Further impassioned purchases followed – more than 200 sourced from across the globe. Now a selection of infamous artworks opens to the public across two floors of a refurbished modernist stately house. Cue the cumulative outrage.

With debates around censorship in art back in the spotlight, the museum’s director, Rosa Rodrigo, politely swats away any mention of radicalism. “It’s about giving the artists a home so that they can continue to express themselves,” she says. Other works include Goya’s self-censored series Los Caprichos, illustrations by prisoners at Guantanamo Bay and Nation Estate, a futuristic film from Palestinian artist Larissa Sansour. All are accompanied by detailed descriptions of shutdowns, protests, aggressions, even a diplomatic stand-off and one heavy-handed intervention from the Pentagon. For some, the displays will seem tasteless but there’s a subtler point being made here. Artists should be allowed to challenge without the fear of being cancelled or censored. Whether or not you’re a fan of the work, this is a museum that’s determined to let ideas breathe, rather than to hyperventilate.

Literature – USA
Q&A

André Aciman
Author

The US writer André Aciman is the author of several novels and works of non-fiction. He is best known for 2007’s Call Me by Your Name, a coming-of-age story about a romantic relationship between 17-year-old Elio and his father’s 24-year-old graduate assistant Oliver, set in northern Italy.

The author’s latest book, The Gentleman from Peru, again transports the reader to sunny Italy. Set on the Amalfi Coast, it follows a group of American friends on holiday who have an encounter with a mysterious resident at their hotel.

Why the Amalfi Coast?
I went to a hotel in Positano on the Amalfi Coast. It was so sublime, so beautiful and so restful there that, when I started the novella, I immediately set it there. It let me spend some time there in my imagination.

There’s a hint of mysticism to the tale. Were you inspired to write something magical?
I have no interest in magical realism and I wrote the story because I wanted to make fun of the genre. I was having fun with it but I got carried away. One always falls in love with something one is writing. I fell in love with this story of the gentleman from Peru, who has a fantastic memory, which goes beyond his birth, into the past and the future.

Why choose the novella?
I didn’t want to write a long novel. I like to leave things seemingly unfinished because I don’t like endings. I’m not comfortable with endings, because our lives themselves aren’t always neatly packaged.

‘The Gentleman from Peru’, published by Faber & Faber, is released on 4 April.

Art – Georgia
Small wonders

Can a small country of 3.6 million people sustain an international art fair? Kaha Gvelesiani worried a lot about that when he started the Tbilisi Art Fair (TAF) in 2018. He needn’t have. The TAF, which takes place in April at the Expo Georgia exhibition centre, is the highlight of the country’s art calendar and is helping to nurture its neighbouring nations’ emerging art scenes too. “Our mission is to cultivate a broader audience for artists, galleries and professionals in Georgia and beyond,” says its art director, Eric Schlosser. “We want to encourage professional skills in the region, as well as provide support for cross-border projects.”

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine might have made life increasingly uncertain in this corner of the world but TAF’s organisers don’t have plans to diverge from their mission. “As long as we have control, we will keep our agenda,” Schlosser tells Monocle.

This year’s fair runs from 11 to 14 April and is set to welcome about 15,000 visitors. Alongside a programme of talks featuring local and international speakers, artworks – which include pieces by Georgian textile artists Mariana Chkonia and the late Tamaz Nutsubidze – will be on sale, with prices ranging from €300 to €300,000. “This year’s entries display the complex intersections between manual craft and digital technology,” says Schlosser. “Artists who are retaining elements of the past and shaping their vision of the future.”
tbilisiartfair.art

Radio – Global
Stray thoughts

Alongside this magazine, we broadcast 24 hours a day on Monocle Radio. Here, three recent Monocle on Culture guests share their thoughts on life, art and cinema.

1
Christian Friedel, breakout star in the acclaimed film ‘The Zone of Interest’ on reading the room
“Some roles require toning it down,” says the actor, who plays Nazi officer Rudolf Höss in the film. “As an actor, you want to give all of yourself in all the scenes but here it was important to sometimes be invisible.”

2
Maggi Hambling, pioneering British artist, on the one word she doesn’t use
Look at everything as an experiment, says Hambling, who bans her students from using the word “sketch”. “It implies something that’s not important. Even the tiniest piece of paper, you should be addressing yourself to that bit of space.”

3
Matteo Garrone, Italian film-maker, on working with others
Be open to your approach to working with others, says Garrone, who considers the migrants employed as extras in his Oscar-nominated film Io Capitano as collaborators. “I was the film’s first spectator. They were co-directing the movie.”

To hear the full interviews, listen to ‘Monocle on Culture‘ at monocle.com/radio

The agenda opener: Updates from our correspondents and a conversation with Chris Black

How to live – Uniforms
Smart chance
Tyler Brûlé on why dressing the part is about more than just self-expression.

It was 2008. To mark the recent launch of Monocle, we had decided to host a dinner for our advertisers and bought crisp, white waiter jackets from Hakuï in Japan for the occasion. All was going to plan on the night until I overheard one of the serving staff tell her manager that she wasn’t happy with the jacket that she had been given.

“What’s wrong with it?” asked the manager. “It looks good on you.”

“It inhibits my creativity,” said the woman. “I need to express myself.”

What a curious comment, I thought. Had she been booked for the wrong event? Did she assume that there would be a dance component to the evening? Maybe some acrobatics? The exchange continued for another minute or so before the gent in charge told her that there was an alternative outfit for her: the coat that she had arrived in, which she should collect on her way out.

I didn’t recognise it at the time but that exchange was a taster of what many companies now have to contend with: staff putting their own freedom of expression before what’s best for the company. Firms must stand up for what is right for the brand, the customer and corporate culture.

In this fashion-and-hospitality-themed edition of Monocle, we highlight a few hotel brands that understand the power of giving their staff uniforms that make the wearer proud, while also allowing guests to identify who is staffing the lobby or bar. The vogue for putting everyone in polar fleece cannot be the solution for banks, airlines and courier companies. If you don’t like the uniform of a potential employer, you might want to reconsider applying.

Reporting from…

Monocle has a network of correspondents in cities around the world. This month, our brief updates feature greased wheels in London, a buzz above the streets of Tokyo and a wet’n’wild festival in Bangkok.

Tokyo
Honey trap

Ginza might be famed for its high-end shops and restaurants but less well known is that the area is home to five volunteer-run rooftop beehives. The Ginza Mitsubachi Project started in 2006; today 250,000 bees make two tonnes of honey every year. Tours are available, as is the sweet stuff.

Bangkok
Making a splash

Heading to Bangkok in April? Be prepared to get wet. Annual water festival Songkran is set to unfold over the entire month as part of the government’s push to promote Thai soft power. The festival’s global ambitions mean that it might one day rain on even the Easter bunny’s parade.

London
Pedal power

Is London in a golden era of cycling? Ridership is up 20 per cent on pre-pandemic levels, while cycling trips make up the equivalent of a third of all Tube journeys. Transport for London says that more than eight million motor-vehicle journeys a day could be biked instead.

The Interrogator
Chris Black
Co-host, ‘How Long Gone’

Chris Black is the New York- and Los Angeles-based co-host of podcast How Long Gone, as well as a cultural commentator and fashion consultant for brands such as J Crew. Alongside his co-host, Jason Stewart, Black offers a refreshingly honest take on the fashion, entertainment and hospitality industries, and regularly interviews high-profile musicians, restaurateurs and journalists. Here, we ask him about his media habits and what it takes to be a skilled conversationalist.

Where do you get your news?
Newspapers such as The New York Times and the Financial Times. I’m a big Puck person. I go to Mediastar for media news, Hits Daily Double for music and Vogue Business for fashion. I like to be in the know about all of these industries. Being informed helps my career and show. I never feel exhausted by keeping up with the news. Music, fashion and media are businesses that are constantly in flux.

What’s on your sofa-side magazine stack?
I have so much stuff. Apartamento, The Gentlewoman, Fantastic Man, Middle Plane, Staf, The New Yorker, The Paris Review, System, Epoch, L’Étiquette, Popeye, Slop. And then I have a lot of old issues of Index, The Face, Dazed & Confused and GQ. I have the first issue of Monocle.

‘How Long Gone’ doesn’t pull its punches when it comes to making fun of the industries it covers. Why do you think this approach has worked for you?
It’s fun and it comes from a place of respect. When you record three hours of yourself talking every week, you care less about what you’re saying and it’s easier to be honest. You’re not thinking about repercussions. Most people who listen to the show know that there’s a tongue-in-cheek element to it.

Do you think the cultural conversation is ready for a little more cheekiness?
People revel in doom and gloom. They make that an identifying feature. Yes, there are ills in the world. And maybe it’s worse now than it used to be. But you can’t let every little thing affect you. And humour or honesty still shine through.

What are your tips for being a good conversationalist?
Be curious. We are so used to talking about ourselves. Our culture rewards it. When it comes to conversation, the only way to make it interesting is to ask genuine questions. On our show, we have an hour with someone and we want to make it fun for all of us. And everybody likes talking about themselves.

Key messages

While it’s true that we’re bookshop and newsstand aficionados here at Monocle, even we are prepared to admit that some shopping experiences can be a tad mirthless. Luckily, Lisbon retailers Luis Cunha and Arturas Slidziauskas might have found a solution: humour. Our editors recently visited the pair’s shop, Under the Cover, in Bairro Azul. There, we discovered the art of canny copywriting flourishing in an unlikely place: on keychains, emblazoned with arch, oddball slogans. Was it Kant or a keyring that first said, “My cat is right about you”? You get the idea. Sure, it’s not quite Pessoa but it certainly sends a message: words matter and the best ones ring true. And it’s also a reminder that a little humour here and there can be as key to reading as it is to retail.

Three things you’ll learn

Monocle’s correspondents have brought back insights into design, world leaders, education and more. Here are just three things you’ll learn in this issue.

1.
Kyriakos Mitsotakis doesn’t mince his words
The Greek prime minister isn’t amused by a recent report about press freedom in his country. “May I be a little blunt?” he asks Monocle contributing editor Andrew Mueller, who he spoke to at the Munich Security Conference. “This report is a joke.” The EU’s report – not ours, we hope. Read our Q&A for more on Greek equality, defence and how to handle the neighbours here.

2.
Not everyone needs (or wants) a university degree
Education rates are rising but university courses can lead to debt and not always to jobs. That might be why a growing number of US students are choosing to take a hands-on approach. We visit North Bennet Street School in Boston to see what the next generation is making of the opportunity to learn a trade here.

3.
Paris is home to tens of thousands of state-owned design treasures
French diplomats have a secret weapon when it comes to showing off Gallic design: Mobilier National. Since the 17th century, this Paris-based workshop has decked out embassies, repaired priceless antiquities, dressed rooms and provided fittingly grand backdrops for statecraft here.

Tipping point

US tipping culture is on the march and could soon be coming to an after-dinner bill, factura or Rechnung near you (writes Christopher Lord). I have always preferred not to complain about what is an unavoidable fact of dining out stateside, even if it confounds most visiting Europeans. Yet I have started to see its influence spreading: a percentage point added to the bill in London restaurants, for example, and a growing pressure to fork out. Most Americans recognise that tipping is out of control. Gratuity has become gratuitous.

Point-of-sale (POS) machines – those devices at the till on which you tap your card, digitally sign your name and select a tip percentage – have become ubiquitous. Adding 20 per cent was once a solid recognition of good service in the US but some pos machines now urge you to add more than 35 per cent to your bill – all before you get your coffee. How do you know that the service will be any good?

For daily opinions, analysis and insights, subscribe to The Monocle Minute, our free email newsletter, at monocle.com/minute

Wild blue yonder

It has been almost 42 years since Argentina lost its war with the UK over the Falklands. It has been 11 years since the people of the Falkland Islands voted – 1,513 to three – to remain an overseas territory of the UK. Argentina has never taken the hint. Perhaps the only Argentinian political orthodoxy observed by its eccentric new president, Javier Milei, is the belief that the Falkland Islands are in fact Islas Malvinas and should be returned.

The dispute has nevertheless long been at a fairly low simmer: even the combustible Milei has ruled out another war. However, the standoff is bad news for the South Atlantic’s sea creatures. Wedged between the UK’s exclusive economic zone (EEZ) surrounding the Falkland Islands, and Argentina’s EEZ, which borders Argentina, is a rich but lawless realm that has become known as the Blue Hole.

The area has been overrun by trawlers (many of them Chinese), drawn by the area’s extraordinary diversity of marine life, as well as by the fact that there’s nothing to stop them from harvesting as much of it as they can carry. Reports suggest that many of the trawlers turn off their tracking systems, further liberating them from oversight.

A possible solution would be the establishment of a Regional Fisheries Management Organisation (RFMO) but that would involve Argentina co-operating with the UK – therefore implicitly acknowledging that the UK gets a say in the matter. It is quite the diplomatic conundrum but reaching a compromise would be (marginally) easier than persuading the local squid to avoid the area.

Editor’s letter: Andrew Tuck talks going on with the show

Monocle has always had a penchant for a good trade fair. Enter the halls of convention centres across the world and you are suddenly immersed into the lives of coffee traders, bathroom-equipment manufacturers, textile brands or motor manufacturers. While some events come and go from our schedule, many of these gatherings remain annual fixtures on our editorial calendar. One of these is Mipim, the world’s most important property and real estate event. The marché international des professionnels de l’immobilier (hence why they call it Mipim) has been running since 1990 and has an attractive home, the Palais des Festivals in Cannes (the venue that also hosts the town’s famous film festival).

But it’s not just the chance to be in the south of France that pulls us in. As you walk the halls, track down people for interviews and off-the-record briefings, you build a detailed map of which cities and nations are on the move – often upwards with the help of skyline-defining edifices – and where’s struggling. But you also get a sense of social trends – is office life truly doomed or just transforming? Do people feel secure and welcome in the cities where they live? If not, why? And you can also spot who’s really investing in sustainability, in beauty, in liveability; and who the sharks are. We’ll be heading back there in March, finding the stories that we think you should know about and tracking down the people we should all be listening to.

But why wait until then? For this issue of Monocle, we have hit the streets in cities from São Paulo to Copenhagen to meet the developers, foundations, builders and co-operatives that we think are doing some good. People and organisations that are looking beyond pure profit to deliver care homes where the elderly are embraced by architecture, offices where people find collaboration and consensus easy to achieve, buildings that have been adapted for re-use with élan. It’s a realm that we should all take an interest in – the world of property and development can make or break a neighbourhood and shape our lives for the better or for the worse.

As part of the report, I met architect Guillermo Reynés of gras Reynés Arquitectos in Palma de Mallorca to see through his eyes a project that he has delivered for the Fluxà family, founders of Camper shoes among other things. It’s a series of seven buildings built around a busy intersection of roads in the El Terreno neighbourhood, once the happening heart of nightlife but in recent years down on its luck. Client and architect have come together to create a series of buildings that contain homes to rent, a café to linger in, offices, a flower shop, a bakery and a supermarket – all in a rich array of colours and materials. As with many of the people we interviewed, both Reynés and Miguel Fluxà, CEO of Camper, spoke less about profit (they could have just lobbied for another hotel) than about giving back to a city they care about.

One country that seems to be hiring ever bigger booths and stands at trade fairs is Poland. In sectors from finance to medicine, architecture and, yes, property, Poland is playing an ever-more important role. But there’s one trade where its rise is truly astonishing: furniture manufacturing. Flatpack masters and high-end brands have all been coming to the country to have products expertly made. Poland is now one of the world’s top-three furniture exporters. This month, our Expo trundles through snowy forests and into hi-tech factories as we grasp what’s been happening.

We also meet the conscripts in the Lithuanian army, discover the most covetable collection of graphic design for sale, see how France intends to keep crowds at the Olympic Games safe and meet the chefs who cook for presidents and kings. 

Some different house news. We have a lot of projects and plans in play for 2024: expect more physical Monocle spaces, new books, a digital initiative and plenty of events. The first of these is an outing for The Chiefs, the event where we ask leaders in numerous fields to tell us their stories, reveal their tips for success. It’s in Hong Kong on Wednesday 27 and Thursday 28 March. Come. We’d love to see you. We might even check out some real estate.

Please feel free to send suggestions, tips and perspectives. You’ll find me at at@monocle.com.

Illustrator: Motiejus Vaura

Spring into action with brand new styles

Grooming: Sam Basham
Model: Alexis Petit

The culture agenda: How Denmark’s film school gives its alumni a starring role in Hollywood

cinema –– denmark
Behind the camera

With multiple Oscar and Palme d’Or winners to their name, Danes have long punched above their weight when it comes to cinema. Their government recently acknowledged this by allocating a further DKK40m (€5.4m) to its already generous financial support for the industry in 2024. Much of the credit for Danish film-making’s global success should go to Den Danske Filmskole (The National Film School of Denmark), which The Hollywood Reporter named as one of the world’s top film schools last year.

“This is the most important institution in Danish cinema,” says the school’s director, Tine Fischer. “It has a long list of graduates who have helped to lift Danish film and TV to its unique international position over the past 50 years. That’s partly because it has a close relationship with the industry. Our students make films as soon as they start here – and when they leave, they go directly into the industry.”

Alumni have founded successful studios such as Zentropa and Nimbus Films straight after graduation. The former was set up by Lars von Trier, the Antichrist director known for his provocative work, who attended the school before he added the “von” to his name. Other past students include Bille August, Susanne Bier and Thomas Vinterberg, who won the best foreign film Oscar in 1989, 2011 and 2021, respectively. Vinterberg, one of the alumni who founded the influential Dogme 95 movement, has said: “The four or five tricks that I use when I make films come from my days at the film school.”

The school is the country’s most competitive educational institution, with more than 1,000 applicants for just 48 places every two years. According to Fischer, its small size is crucial to its success. “It’s like with elite sports,” she says. “Our students are looked after individually, with many hours of personal dialogue and feedback. They develop according to their own potential, artistic vision and ambition.”

Collaboration is another key focus. “How we operate has always been defined by the fact that writing students work very closely with the film-makers,” says Fischer. “In the future our students will have to work between sectors, so narratives will be about IP: you create a universe that works across art, theatre, film, TV series and games.”

The emphasis on teamwork is what makes the school intrinsically Danish. “Director students don’t hang on to their idea for a month,” says Fischer. “They constantly unfold their vision as part of a group. And if they later go to work in Hollywood, people are struck by how well they can work collaboratively with others. That’s why they get hired again.”

School rules
Founded in 1966, Den Danske Filmskole is housed in a converted 19th-century artillery store in Holmen, a former military zone across the harbour from Copenhagen city centre. It is funded by the state at a cost of dkk50m (€6.7m) a year.

The school, which is close to the Copenhagen Opera House and the Royal Danish Academy, offers eight four-year bachelor programmes: animation, documentary direction, fiction direction, cinematography, editing, screenwriting, production and sound editing. The education it offers is the country’s second most expensive, after training navy frogmen. The school is open to students of all nationalities but most of the teaching is in Danish. International students must pay €25,000 a term; the state covers the tuition fees of those from Denmark.

journalism –– iowa
Think local

More than 2,000 newspapers have closed in the US in the past two decades, leaving many areas with scant media coverage. Iowa Capitol Dispatch is among a small number of outlets that are seeking to plug the gap. The website is part of a not-for-profit network called States Newsroom, which funds journalism in almost 40 states across the country and supplies local newsrooms with stories. Since the Dispatch launched in Des Moines in 2020, the appetite for its work has been robust; its subscriber base has doubled in the past year.

Kathie Obradovich, the site’s editor in chief, tells Monocle that there’s a particularly urgent need for high-quality journalism in Iowa, a rural state with an outsized influence because of its first-in-the-nation caucuses. “People pay attention to politics here, especially young people,” she says. “They see how cool it is that they have a voice and that, every four years, they get the opportunity to meet presidential candidates and ask them questions.”

In January, Donald Trump’s landslide victory in the Republican caucuses confirmed Iowa’s shift from swing state to GOP stronghold. “This is a result of a combination of reasons,” says Obradovich. “Rural areas have felt disconnected from the state capitol for a long time. But I put some of it at the feet of Trump, who has helped to increase the polarisation here.” In a pivotal US election year, Iowa Capital Dispatch’s reporting on stories that might otherwise go untold will be crucial.

books –– berlin
Q&A
Lauren Oyler
Culture writer and novelist

Lauren Oyler’s new collection of essays, No Judgement, is published by Virago this month. Her debut novel, Fake Accounts (2021), was well received, but she is best known for her acerbic literary criticism. In No Judgement, she explores topics ranging from gossip and Goodreads to expat life in Berlin and attempting “jaw yoga” to ease her anxiety-fuelled teeth grinding. Here, she tells us about the state of cultural criticism, her writing process and “difficult” pieces of art.

What did you write ‘No Judgement’ in response to?
Many people have this idea that cultural criticism and commentary have a short lifespan because the news cycle is so fast. I disagree with that. I wanted to see whether the arguments that I was making in, say, 2019 would still hold now. I wanted to contextualise some of these contemporary conversations.

What was your writing process?
It’s not natural to write six long essays in a row. Ideally, the essay is an occasional form but it worked well because the pieces inform each other in ways that I didn’t intend.

Why is wrestling with ‘difficult’ art important?
I identify and empathise with people who are intimidated by the idea of tackling something difficult, particularly books. You have to learn to read them as you read them. But when we say, “This is difficult, most people aren’t going to like it,” that’s going to turn them off immediately. Instead, we should say, “It’s hard for me too, but you can do it,” and show that the effort that you put in is rewarding.

language –– paris
English channelling

Emmanuel Macron has inaugurated Paris’s Cité Internationale de la Langue Française as part of his pledge to boost the number of French speakers around the world. Nestled in the former Renaissance chateau of King François I in the capital’s northeast, the centre will celebrate the French language and its cultural prowess.

The €211m spent on the shiny new building shows just how much of a priority this project is to the government – as far as cultural overhauls go, the budget is second only to that of the renovation of the Notre-Dame cathedral. The reason for this is simple. According to the Académie Française, the national body in charge of moderating the French language, English words are now trickling in to the French vernacular more than ever. The way that linguistic purists see it, those who use these imported terms aren’t just doing themselves a disservice. They’re also breaking the law.

Under the Toubon Law of 1994, it is illegal to use phrases such as “le parking”, “le job” or – God forbid – “le happy hour” in any document that is funded by the state. But with the Paris 2024 Olympic Games on the horizon, curbing such forms of linguistic treason, as the Académie refers to them, will be harder than ever. The use of both French and English across the event’s communications suggests that these Games might not be quite as French as some people would like. Perhaps the Académie would be better off taking a more laissez-faire approach.

The unsung heroes of Venice who keep the city nourished and thriving

Before dawn, the narrow cobblestone thoroughfares of Venice are deserted apart from street sweepers and delivery people wheeling carts of fresh produce to restaurants. Along the quiet alleys, there are still wet patches from the previous night’s tidal floods that have now receded – a frequent occurrence in this city of islands, where the shallows of the Adriatic flank many paths and roads.

At Piazza San Marco, Venice’s lowest-lying location, some of the puddles are deep enough to become baths for the seagulls. When Monocle arrives at the Grancaffè Quadri restaurant, staffer Daniel Galindo is busy vacuuming up floodwater from the dining room’s floor. “The city is set on a lagoon so we have to live with this,” he says. Running a restaurant on dry land is already complicated; in Venice, it also requires staff who are comfortable with being at the mercy of aquatic forces.

First inaugurated in 1638 and originally called Il Rimedio, the Grancaffè Quadri has been a fixture of Piazza San Marco for centuries. The Alajmo family took over in 2011, with a revamp of the upstairs by star designer Philippe Starck, a menu by chef Massimiliano Alajmo of the three-Michelin-starred Le Calandre & a kitchen headed by chef Sergio Preziosa, who earned Quadri its own Michelin star. Clearly, high waters and cramped kitchens haven’t held back the team.

A few steps from the Grancaffè Quadri, at the dock near the Palazzo Ducale, sunbeams break through the clouds onto the Grand Canal. The scene looks like a Canaletto painting but there’s no time to be distracted: Monocle is here to observe the restaurant staff unload cartons of olive oil, wine and pasta. The men perform a well-practised dance, forming a human chain of box-tossing. Then they dexterously wheel their handcarts between the columns of San Marco and San Todaro, and into the Grancaffè Quadri’s kitchen through the back-alley door. Wine, however, is inconveniently stored in a separate space some distance away. “That too is a reality in Venice,” says Galindo. “You can’t have a cellar in a city where water flows underneath.” As they get to work, we venture to Venice’s Rialto Market to meet fishmonger Marco Bergamasco, who shows us around the many steel stalls piled up with cod, squid, razor clams and other sea creatures. Then we climb into his motorboat to return to the Grancaffè Quadri and deliver a crate of sea bass; the fish is a key part of today’s lunch menu. “You can’t take a sick day in this line of work,” says Bergamasco, ducking his head as we glide under a low canal bridge. Still, having left a cushy industrial design career to be on the water every morning, he loves his job.

Tourists on dry land photograph the passing gondolas but largely ignore us. The everyday labour of the city’s residents and workers that keeps it all afloat is invisible to most visitors. Docking to deliver the fish, we notice that though water has gathered in large puddles on the piazza, the Grancaffè Quadri remains almost miraculously dry as a result of its staff’s efforts. “Everything is twice as complicated here,” says chef Sergio Preziosa. Even so, the restaurant maintains the atmosphere of a heart-warming old-time establishment.

Inside, handsome waiters are dressing the tables with white cloths, while young chefs stock the kitchen and prepare their stations. The waiters have now changed into their formalwear: tuxedos with bow ties, their hair pomaded. There is jazz music playing as the doors open at 09.30. “Pronti?” they call towards the kitchen. There’s a long day ahead: the doors won’t close until midnight.