About the practice

The room on Kazbegi Avenue

Workervectorhub Analytics is a small practice on Level 9 of 54 Kazbegi Avenue. The work is workforce productivity insights drawn as figures: hours against output, absences without humiliation, idle minutes with an address. Visitors sometimes expect a product. They find a table, a lightbox, and three people who still ink a plate before they talk.

How the room started

Tamar Beridze kept a metal shop’s roster in Saburtalo in the years when the typed weekly report was filed and never read. She began drawing the week’s hours as stacked bars on cheap newsprint and pinning the sheet in the canteen. Arguments started. Output did not magically rise. What rose was the number of people who could point at Friday. The drawing moved from that canteen to a rented room on Kazbegi Avenue, and the name on the door became Workervectorhub Analytics because the first clients already called the sheets “vector plates” — arrows of work, not a brand exercise.

Georgia’s labour law, the habit of mixed day and night shifts, and the fact that many floors still keep a signed book rather than a clock, all shape the method. We do not fly in a method from elsewhere and translate the captions.

How we work

We ask for a week that is not a show week. We walk. We read whatever record you already keep. We draw in the room, not on the corner of your packing table. We sit the plates with the people who own the roster. If a union steward wants a look first, we wait. If a director wants a plate that names a person beside an absence, we refuse the plate and, if need be, the job.

Credentials here are ordinary: years on floors, a habit of counting, and a cupboard of file copies. Nino trained as a statistician at Tbilisi State and still prefers a pen. Levan was a shift lead in a Rustavi hall before he learned to annotate a plan. Tamar still opens the mail.

The three who keep the figures

Nino Gelashvili

Reads rosters and inks most of the quantitative plates. She will send you back to fetch a missing week rather than guess a column.

Levan Kalandadze

Walks floors and annotates paths. He introduces himself at the first machine. People may refuse a sketch; he marks a blank and moves on.

Tamar Beridze

Sits the readings and keeps the Kazbegi Avenue file. She answers the telephone. If she says a week is taken, it is taken.

What we owe a floor

A workplace is not a specimen. We eat in the canteen if there is one. We do not photograph faces. We do not sell the plates to a neighbouring firm. File copies stay in Tbilisi unless you ask them destroyed. If our drawing is wrong on a factual point — a bay mislabelled, a shift name inverted — we correct the plate at our cost.

If you want a sitting rather than a speech about “the future of work,” write to the room.