17:32 14-11-2025

Gabriadze’s whimsical leaning clock tower in Old Tbilisi

Discover the leaning clock tower by Rezo Gabriadze in Old Tbilisi: hourly angel chimes, a noon and 7 pm puppet show, mosaics, and a quirky symbol of the city.

By Andrew Milligan sumo - The Clock Tower, Tbilisi, Georgia, CC BY 2.0, Link

If you’ve been wandering through Old Tbilisi and suddenly spotted a crooked, storybook tower, you’ve stumbled on one of the city’s most unusual sights. This distinctive clock tower stands on Shavteli Street, next to a puppet theater. It looks as if it could topple at any moment, yet everything is deliberate and secure: that precarious look is part of the design.

A tower that tilts by design

Built in 2010 from the idea of artist and director Rezo Gabriadze, the tower was created as an extension of his theater. It isn’t an ancient relic; it’s a modern structure crafted to appear timeworn, even slightly ramshackle.

Leaning and seemingly assembled from mismatched sections, the tower even features an exterior metal beam that resembles a prop, all by intent. Gabriadze wanted it to look extraordinary, as if pieced together from fragments of different eras and houses.

Every hour, a tiny performance

This is more than a clock tower; it performs. Each hour, an angel appears in a small window at the top and strikes a bell with a hammer. The moment is brief but memorable.

At 12:00 and 19:00, a true mini-show unfolds. In a niche at the base, a wordless puppet performance called The Circle of Life plays out: a meeting, a wedding, children, old age, farewell. It lasts only a couple of minutes, yet holds attention. People come especially to watch, often with children.

Decorations and details

The tower is covered in mosaics, patterns, and painted tiles. Some say a pomegranate tree even grows on the roof, perhaps as a symbol of life. The whole composition is vivid and offbeat. You’ll want to photograph every corner.

A reflection of Tbilisi

This creation captures the spirit of Tbilisi remarkably well. The city itself is a little rough-edged—old and new at once, layered in styles with unexpected nooks. The tower seems to gather all of that into one place and turn it into a symbol.

It isn’t a monument or part of an official tour. It was built by someone with a clear idea, which is why it feels less like a tourist attraction and more like something genuinely Tbilisian.