The Poti Cathedral stands as a beacon of Orthodox Christian heritage in the Georgian port city of Poti. It serves as the seat of the Poti and Khobi Eparchy of the Georgian Orthodox Church and is officially dedicated to the Nativity of the Theotokos. Built in 1907 as a relatively accurate replica of the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople, it is a striking example of Neo-Byzantine architecture in the South Caucasus—a rare surviving ecclesiastical structure from the pre-Soviet era that, while disfigured, was never destroyed. Today, the cathedral is the most prominent landmark of Poti.
The city’s transformation began in 1894 when Nikoloz (Niko) Nikoladze—known formally in Russian as Nikolai Yakovlevich Nikoladze—assumed the role of mayor. Under his vision, Poti began to evolve into a more cultured and modern urban center. One of his boldest initiatives was to commission a grand church in the heart of the city, a site he personally selected. On June 17, 1895, official authorization for the construction was granted. The project was entrusted to the acclaimed architect Robert Marfeld, who had previously designed an Armenian church in Batumi and would later go on to build the grand library of the Academy of Sciences in St. Petersburg.
Initially, there were plans to construct the cathedral in the traditional Georgian architectural style. However, the sociopolitical climate of the time was not conducive to such national expressions. The Russian Empire was then in the throes of a stringent Russification campaign—launched in 1881—that actively discouraged regional cultural identity. After protracted debate, a decision was made to design the cathedral in a Neo-Byzantine style. This was no half-measure—the ambition was to replicate the Hagia Sophia itself.
In pursuit of authenticity and inspiration, the design team traveled to Turkey, sketching Georgian church motifs near the area of Trabzon. Yet, the project encountered a number of technical challenges. The unstable ground necessitated innovative construction methods, leading to the extensive use of concrete—a pioneering approach at the time. It marked one of the earliest and most significant applications of reinforced concrete technology in the construction of a church.
On the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross in 1906, the cornerstone of the cathedral was laid in the presence of the Bishop of Guria. Construction progressed at a remarkable pace, and within just eight months, the edifice was complete. The entire building process was extensively documented in photographs, preserving the memory of its creation.
For the interior frescoes, the services of artist Viktor Ivanovich Dumitrashko were enlisted. In Russia, he was known for his preparatory designs for the mosaics of the Church of the Savior on Blood in St. Petersburg. Reports suggest he painted the Poti Cathedral in a unique blend of three artistic traditions: Georgian, Greek, and Russian.
The Soviet regime arrived in 1921 and promptly closed the cathedral. Unlike many others of its kind, however, it was not demolished. Instead, in 1932 it was repurposed as a theater. This transition involved architectural alterations, most notably the complete removal of the eastern apses. Photographs from the Soviet period show a vastly transformed and secularized building.
When churches began to be returned to the Orthodox Church in 1989, the Poti Cathedral posed a dilemma—it was still an active theater. The matter dragged on unresolved for years. Then, in 2004, during his first year as President, Mikheil Saakashvili visited Poti and ordered the construction of a separate building for the theater. By 2005, the cathedral was officially returned to the Church.
Tragically, the original frescoes had not survived the Soviet era and were entirely destroyed.
Today, the Poti Cathedral draws interest primarily as a scaled-down counterpart to the great Hagia Sophia. Yet, it is not a perfect replica. While the Hagia Sophia is structured as a rectangle encircled by colonnades—north and south sides complemented by four semicircular corners—the Poti Cathedral has a different external form, most notably featuring three eastern apses that the original lacks. Marfeld recreated the narthex of the Hagia Sophia but replaced its courtyard with a portico. Whereas Hagia Sophia’s dome rests on a true square base, Marfeld subtly truncated the corners and omitted the distinctive stone projections on the northern and southern flanks—though modest versions of these elements do exist.
Inside, however, the resemblance to the original is more evident. The under-dome space closely mirrors the source. Notably, the famed double colonnades on the north and south sides are present, each consisting of four columns on the lower tier and six above. The only deviation is in the size and capitals of the columns, which differ from those in Constantinople.
The dome itself evokes the Hagia Sophia in form, though it is more modest in scale and lacks interior decoration.
The loss of Dumitrashko’s frescoes is a profound cultural tragedy. If his original sketches have been preserved, their recovery could pave the way for a faithful restoration. Even if they have not survived, it would be an inspired gesture to repaint the interior with precise copies of the Hagia Sophia’s original artwork. Such an undertaking would elevate the Poti Cathedral into a fascinating, albeit slightly postmodern, monument of spiritual and architectural synthesis.