Khma: The Voice, the Journey, and the Theatre of Anna Kobakhidzé
In this editorial, we talk with Anna Kobakhidzé – an actress, director, and founder of the theatre company Khma. Her life has unfolded between Tbilisi and Paris, two places that have shaped her in profoundly different ways. Georgia grounds her, Paris challenges her, and somewhere in the space between the two, she has carved out a creative identity that feels entirely her own.
Anna’s story is one of movement across countries, across disciplines, and across versions of herself. She arrived in Paris as a child, returned to Georgia for her teenage years, and later came back to France with intention and clarity. Through these shifts, she learned what it means to start over, to feel lost, to rebuild, and to trust the slow process of becoming.
Today, Anna is a director whose work blends humor, collective storytelling, and social critique. Her company Khma which means “voice” in Georgian, reflects both her roots and her artistic vision – a belief in the power of speaking out. Her latest play, set in a luxurious hotel, turns the absurdity of modern labor into a chorus of resistance. She is open about doubt, honest about fear, and yet guided by a deep conviction that theatre can shift something in people. Her journey is not only artistic but personal. It is a continuous negotiation between identity, independence, and the desire to build a life that aligns with one’s inner voice.
In the conversation that follows, Anna reflects on her childhood between two countries, the challenges of making a home in Paris, the leap into directing, the creation of her company, and the ongoing search for meaning within her craft.
Hello, could you please introduce yourself and tell us where you were born and how you ended up living in Paris?
My name is Anna Kobakhidzé. I was born in 1993 in Tbilisi. When I was four, my parents enrolled me in French lessons, and after the collapse of the Soviet Union, my father began considering moving to France. When I was six, I came to Paris to visit him and unexpectedly ended up staying. I began to attend a public school, even though at that time I could hardly read or speak French. Suddenly finding myself in a completely new environment, forced me to learn the language mostly by listening. Then I returned to Georgia, where I spent my teenage years. After finishing high school, I entered the Shota Rustaveli Theater and Georgia State Film University to study directing. But in 2012, I returned to France, this time intentionally. Since my father and sisters were already living here and I was fluent in French, the move was easier than the first time.
Could you tell us more about your father?
My father, Mikheil Kobakhidze, who passed away in 2019, was a filmmaker. He began directing in the 1960s and made several black and white short films. His movies are very lyrical and poetic, far from Soviet propaganda thematics. After his film The Musiciens, in 1969 the Soviet government censored him and he was forbidden to continue working. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, he moved to Paris despite not knowing French. He arrived with a completed screenplay for a feature film and immediately began searching for funding. The language barrier and new environment made everything more difficult. He had to learn French from the beginning and adjust to an entirely new way of life. Although he had some support from people around him, it was still an incredibly challenging transition.
Since you first lived in Paris, then returned to Georgia, and eventually came back to Paris again, which place do you feel had the greatest influence on your creative development?
I think my creative development has been shaped by both countries. But Georgia shaped me in my early years. And today I don’t think about it so much in my work. I consider that roots speak for themselves, almost in a mystical way. Paris gave me wonderful memories and introduced me to incredible people, artists and artworks, but maybe Georgia influenced me on a deeper level. When I later returned to Paris, I had to start from zero again. It takes a long time to feel self-sufficient in a new place. I think this sense of insufficiency is something many of us immigrants share – this constant question of where home truly is, and where we belong.
Do you think there are many cultural similarities between the French and Georgians?
There are both similarities and differences. When I moved to Paris, I had to build new habits such as accepting rational and analytical understanding of life, time management, and learning how to navigate social situations. My conscious life was shaped here. There are specific social codes, and at first, I had to figure them out. I remember people being amused because, even though I spoke French fluently, I often did not understand slang, so they assumed I was French and could not understand why I was confused. I also feel that Georgians are more expressive in an emotional way. We tend to share things from the heart more easily and also talk more spontaneously about deep subjects.
Where and what did you study in Paris?
I studied Film in Paris for four years and then continued with a master’s program in Art History. However, after a year, I decided to quit. I had always dreamt of becoming an actress, so I turned toward theatre instead. I had already lived in Paris for four years without any connection to the theatre world as my focus had always been cinema. Theatre never really attracted me, but I knew it was the path I needed to take if I wanted to act. Because of that, everything moved slowly. I spent two years in a theatre school and eventually performed on stage. Then Covid happened, which paused everything. After the pandemic, I joined a new acting school where I felt more aligned with what I actually wanted to do. I enrolled with the intention of truly studying the craft, seeing it as a foundation for my professional development.
When did you decide you wanted to act?
Since childhood. In my family everyone is an actor, so I guess it influenced me in a way.
But then why did you study Film?
Someone once advised me not to study acting because the profession is incredibly difficult – almost like a lottery. That made me very hesitant and unsure of what path to take. In the end, I thought studying film and directing would offer me broader possibilities and a more solid foundation.
Do you regret it?
No, it was an amazing experience. Also, while studying film, I had an opportunity to act.
What was the most challenging part of settling down in Paris?
What is the pillar? Your family, your language, your home, and your friends. I did have part of my family in Paris, but the language barrier and financial difficulties made the first years very tough.
Regarding Georgia, are there everyday things you miss? And are there things you did not expect would become part of your life after moving to Paris?
In Georgia, for me time flows differently. There is space to build beautiful projects. Georgian culture is incredibly refined. It has this strong history as a small country and somehow deeply connected to nature. Those are the things that stay with me the most. Today, I finally consider Paris my home, but this realization only came in the past couple of years. Before that, I felt torn between France and Georgia, unsure of where I belonged. That uncertainty created a lot of confusion and a kind of emotional disconnect, which can easily lead to an identity crisis. Here in Paris, what I did not expect to find was the warmth from people who are not Georgians, but who became incredibly important in my life.
Tell us about your routine in Paris.
It really depends on the period of my life. When I was a student, I was never at home which was fun but also exhausting. Now, I spend much more time at home. I do yoga, work on the administrative tasks for my company, talk to my mom, and meet up with friends. For an artist, discipline is one of the hardest things. You depend entirely on yourself and on your emotional state, so learning how to organize your days takes time. I also go to the theatre quite often. I enjoy creating “mind memories,” writing, and meditating.
How did meditation become part of your life?
I absolutely love meditating. It is wonderful. An actor friend recommended it to me, and I have been doing it regularly for about five years now, though not every single day. It helps me navigate my emotions and stay connected to my inner state. It also regulates my breathing, which is something we tend to forget about in everyday life.
Okay, now let’s move to your artistic side of living. Tell us about your company.
Khma is a theatre association I founded a year ago. The idea came from a play I had staged while I was still in school. I wanted to continue developing it and bring it to the suburbs of Paris. To make this possible, I needed a formal structure, so founding this company became essential. Creating Khma means a great deal to me as it opens the door to future projects where I hope to bring together both Georgian and French artists. The company is still in its early stages, but we have already been included in the programs of two theatres. I serve as the artistic director, and for this particular play, we have eight actors, along with an assistant, a lighting designer, a costume designer, and other collaborators.
The name of the company, Khma, means “voice” in Georgian. For me, it is a universal word. I wanted the name to reflect my Georgian roots because I wanted to find a way to relay to it. Those thoughts and questioning took shape in this company. To me, “voice” carries many layers of meaning. It is about giving a voice (a Georgian phrase for voting), finding a voice, and expressing what lies within. It represents both an internal and external movement, a form of resistance, and a way to challenge indifference. There is a certain strength in the voice, it can be an arrow, precise and determined. In the future, with more projects and funding, I hope to bring my plays to Georgia. But I have learned that everything takes time, and I have come to accept that.
Can you tell us about your first play?
The play is called Supervision. It takes place in a luxurious hotel and focuses on the staff working there. The structure is built around individual monologues, where each character shares their personal connection to their job – whether they enjoy it, what challenges they face, and what keeps them going. Throughout these monologues, dissident thoughts emerge, critiquing capitalism and how it exploits workers. The play shows the ways employees are persuaded to believe that their job is a major steppingstone in their career, even when it drains them. Ultimately, the story is about the power of the collective: the staff come together in a strike, which escalates into a revolt aimed at challenging and influencing the system. The inspiration came from my own experiences working in various jobs where everything felt meaningless. I wanted to explore the absurdity of giving all your energy and effort to keep a machine running – a machine that cannot satisfy you – while finding a way to express this in a comic, relatable manner. Each actor has their own monologue, contributes to the collective movement, and is always visible on stage. Humor is crucial for me, no matter how dark or pessimistic the topic, if there is no humor, I cannot engage with it. There is something in humor that creates the connection between the present and the audience. Humor is very political.
You studied Film and Directing but you wanted to be an actress. Now with this company, do you also act in your play?
In this particular play, I do not act. However, I am open to the possibility of performing in future projects. I think we can diversify our ways of doing the job we want to. I think being an actor today is challenging because of the intense competition, and as an actor, you are often dependent on others, which can limit your control over your own choices. Running this company is a different kind of responsibility. Here, I am in the lead, and I rely more on myself. That independence gives me a sense of self-sufficiency and freedom that I really value.
In your opinion, what makes your company stand out in Paris? How is it different from other theatre companies?
I think it’s too early to tell exactly what. Of course the dialogue between cultures in our projects can naturally attract attention. I want Khma to involve Georgian actors as well, even those who are not based in Paris, bringing them into our projects. This international, cross-cultural aspect is something I hope will set us apart.
I am thinking now about Haraki – a contemporary theatre company in Tbilisi, Georgia. Do you see any similarities or differences between theatre cultures in Tbilisi and Paris?
In France and particularly in Paris, there is an enormous number of theatre companies, which means the competition is intense, especially since Paris is considered a heart of the arts. Also it’s rare for a company to rule a theatre, even though this can happen. Also lately, there has been an effort toward decentralization, which I think is wonderful.
I have only seen one play by Haraki years ago, but I think this company is very important in Georgia’s new theatre landscape. I am planning to go to Tbilisi in December and see their production of Hamlet, which I am really excited about. I know some of the people behind Haraki and I am aware they have many interesting and high-quality projects.
You said one of the main reasons you founded this company was to be independent. What are the challenges of running it?
I think someone with more experience could give a fuller answer, but at this stage, the biggest challenge for me is endurance. You constantly have to send out your projects and face a lot of rejections. Finding theatres willing to program your work can be very difficult. Before we were included in these two theatres, I pitched the project to many others without success. Another challenge is managing the human aspects and people involved in the play. Everyone has their own ideas and sensitivities, and part of running a company is navigating that while keeping the project on track.
Now, as a director, you see rehearsals from a different perspective. Can you tell us more about that?
Yes, directing allows you to witness the entire process from an outsider’s perspective. As an actor, the pressure is very personal, you are always on stage and fully responsible for your performance. As a director, you become a mediator. Many actors do not like being told what to do, so it is important to communicate your vision in a way that shows them the direction without imposing on their creativity. It really depends on the individual, but guiding the rehearsal process requires patience, clarity, and respect for each actor’s approach.
Did you discover that trait of being a mediator in yourself recently?
I enjoy the process. I used to lack confidence, but during the process of this play, a kind of energy emerged that I did not even realize was there. It has been quite astonishing. Of course, there are days when I do not even want to talk or think about theatre (laughs), but overall, the experience has been mesmerizing and incredibly rewarding.
Does your work help you learn and improve yourself?
I think yes. This experience has taught me that when you deal with fears and doubts, it allows you to let go and accept that you can fail and you have to be ready for that. This mindset does not just apply to theatre – it helps you in life more broadly. I think the way is to keep trying and embracing the process.
If you had to choose only one thing to do for the rest of your life, would it be acting or directing?
Oh my god, that is such a difficult question! I would probably choose acting in both cinema and theatre (laughs).
Why?
As an actor, you get to focus intensely and listen to the body which leads you to some other places. The energy and feeling of being on stage are unique, and I really miss that. There is something about that presence and immediacy that I cannot fully replicate as a director.
Okay, now some rapid fire questions. Your top favorite films?
I love Nannie Morettis’ films, Almodovar, Hitchcock, Tarkovsky, Paul Thomas Anderson…
Music you listen to repeatedly recently?
I listen to SAULT a lot.
Sweet or salty?
Salty.
Coffee or tea?
Coffee.
Morning or evening?
Evening.
A book that changed you?
The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann.
A Georgian habit that you do not let go?
Speaking loudly (laughs).
A French habit that became yours?
Punctuality. Even though French’s are late.
Favorite place in Paris?
La Perla Bar
Favorite smell from childhood?
Smell of humidity (laughs).
What role do you dream about playing?
The role of a hooligan.
Your comfort food?
I love brunch food such as avocado toast with cheese, eggs, butter and potatoes.
What advice which you had received stuck with you?
There is always a way – advice I received from my father.
What is the last movie or play you watched that had a big influence on you?
The movie Sirat. I really liked it. And I loved the last show Makbeth by French theatre compagny Munstrum.
We would like to thank Anna, for opening and sharing not only her creative journey, but also the doubts, the shifts, the moments of clarity, and the quiet courage behind it. Speaking with her was a reminder that art is not only about producing work, but also about listening, questioning, and finding the voice that feels true. We cannot wait to see where Khma will lead her next.
You can follow more of Anna’s work on Instagram: @cie_khma