“Please, this way,” the customs officer motioned with his hand, asking us to pass the cargo through the X-ray scanner.
I did not speak Uzbek, and he spoke neither Georgian, nor English, nor Czech. And this was not just any cargo, it was precious cargo. I carefully placed the delicately packed collection of Marilisi’s unique works of art onto the moving belt. Dozens of jewelry pieces created over the past fifteen years slid into the X-ray machine.
At moments like this, I become very anxious. I know nothing will happen to them, but still… Worse yet is when a customs officer handles the jewelry carelessly during inspection. In those moments I may quite sharply insist that gloves be worn. Once in Prague, I almost missed my flight because of this.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by the officer’s incomprehensible phrase, his worried expression, and raised voice. A broker came to our rescue, and soon the reserved car was racing toward the exhibition hall, carrying the treasure of the guests of the 2023 Tashkent International Jewelry Exhibition.
Georgia was represented only by Marilisi, and they already knew about us here. The participants were whispering among themselves that the Georgians had exceptionally rare jewelry, and there was great interest in our stand. What made this exhibition especially important was that awards were being presented in several categories, and each participant submitted a nominated piece.
Marilisi had presented a gold bracelet in the categories of Best Gold Jewelry and Traditional Jewelry. The exhibition was widely covered by all media outlets, as it was one of the key events in the state’s economic strategy, and we knew that the winners would receive broad publicity. Naturally, our interest in the competition was immense.
On May 26, the opening day, crowds flooded the exhibition hall. The only decoration on our stand was our flag, a large silk Georgian five-cross flag we had brought from Tbilisi, against which the Marilisi collection shimmered.
The interest in our company was truly overwhelming. We barely had time to introduce ourselves, to greet visitors, to shake hands. Everyone examined the collection with wide eyes. Every television channel and every distinguished guest recorded interviews with us and took commemorative photographs. By the end of the day, our entire team was so exhausted that we no longer had the strength to share impressions.
Yet the enthusiasm and admiration shown by the public gave us visible confidence for the awards day.
That day arrived.
From the morning, an elderly gray-haired man studied our collection with great interest. He returned several times, then introduced himself. “I am an art historian and, first of all, a master,” he said. “But I cannot understand how you made this. What lies behind these gold lace patterns?”
When he learned that I was the author of the lacework, he brought me a book of his own works. We sat down with tea and began to talk. An extraordinary man, Mr. Babamukhamedov, the father and guardian of Uzbek goldsmithing, an honored master, a teacher of countless students, and a deeply respected artist.
We shared stories, thoughts born of deep devotion to our craft, victories and defeats. As I listened to this great man, his simplicity, sincerity, and pure nature awakened in me a long-forgotten feeling of trust. Yes, it is people like this who shape the history of their countries, change destinies, and make life better through selfless and kind deeds.
Soon our distinguished guest invited a woman named Irina to our stand. Only later did we learn that she was the head of the Moscow jury, who had attempted to disqualify Marilisi but had met fierce resistance from the jury. He showed her several pieces in detail, and they left.
The hall was full, not a single empty seat. The flashes of cameras and television lights created a strange sense of cinematic tension in the already glittering space. I watched the stage with surprising calm.
The awards ceremony moved toward its conclusion.
Best Silver Jewelry.
Best Men’s Jewelry.
Best Diamond Jewelry.
Gold Jewelry.
Third place. Second place. First place.
Then silence fell.
I thought it was over, when suddenly a clear voice announced:
“The prize for works in which the past and the future are intertwined, where the heritage of jewelry art and the treasure of knowledge are so beautifully preserved, goes to Marilisi.”
I barely heard our name. The entire hall was on its feet.
Most important of all, standing and applauding was the gray-haired master, who quietly said to me:
“Your greatest prize is already in your work. This is only our humble recognition, and one you truly deserve.”
Participants from Turkey, Italy, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Dubai, Arabia, Singapore, and India emotionally expressed their support and congratulated us on the gold award. It was an enormous victory for the Marilisi team, one I accepted with deep gratitude.
I, who never participate in competitions, believing that specialists of Marilisi’s caliber can themselves be judges, left the exhibition with a strange feeling.
What brought me the greatest joy in this adventure?
Applause, praise, a gold award, all of that is pleasant. But the most important thing was something else.
It was a promise I had made to myself long ago, a promise that suddenly revealed its direct connection to this award.
A promise I made twenty-one years ago, standing before a display case in the Heraklion Museum, unable to understand, and with no one to explain, how a master three thousand years ago, in that “non-progressive” era, created a unique tiny pendant from the Cretan-Mycenaean period.
I will never forget the confusion, the helplessness, the painful sense of lost knowledge. I knew that, by nature, unanswered questions and unsolved problems were unacceptable to me. That was when I began my journey, in search of forgotten knowledge and of myself.
Many waters, wars, disappointments, anger, mistakes, joys and sorrows passed after that.
I traveled through countless countries, met countless people, found friends, and worked endlessly with my team in search of myself, so much so that I completely forgot that young girl standing before the museum display.
Until one beautiful day in Tashkent, in a city where I thought I had come simply for another exhibition, I was told:
“The promise has been fulfilled.”
Very well. It seems a new journey is about to begin.
With love & respect,
Natia Gotsiridze
Founder of Marilisi
P.S. On May 27 of this year, Marilisi received a gold award at the Tashkent International Exhibition. At the same time, in Washington, at a group exhibition organized by the British Embassy and featuring fine art from around the world, two unique Marilisi gold pieces were on display.
