Imagine two people standing before an audience. One throws out a joke. The other has only a few seconds to grasp the meaning, pick up the wordplay, and fire back – preferably with something even sharper. The first responds again. Hesitate, miss the implication, or simply fail to make the audience laugh, and the round is lost.
That is how askiya works – a traditional Uzbek contest of wit in which the conversation cannot be scripted in advance.
In 2014, UNESCO inscribed askiya on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. But the genre lives on beyond festivals and recordings of old masters. Today, schoolchildren compete in askiya, young performers learn from their elders, and short performances circulate on social media.
The Joke Is Only the Beginning
Askiya usually involves two or more participants. They choose a common theme, one begins, and the others respond by seizing on words, double meanings, and unexpected associations in the previous speaker’s line.
There is no time to step away and think of a better answer.
A good askiyachi – an askiya performer – needs a keen sense of language, quick reactions, and the ability to instantly recognize where someone else’s thought can be taken. Almost anything can provide material: everyday situations, human habits, relationships, and events familiar to the audience.
Humor also makes it possible to address subjects that are not always easy to laugh about in ordinary conversation. Askiya can poke fun at human weaknesses and comment on events around it, but it does so through verbal play rather than moralizing.
UNESCO notes that the tradition is particularly closely associated with the Fergana Valley and the Tashkent region. Historically, most practitioners have been men.
How Do You Teach Improvisation?
The hardest part is passing the skill on to the next generation.
A famous comedian’s joke can be memorized. In askiya, that is not enough. A performer has to hear the other person’s line, spot the trap hidden inside it, and find a way out before the audience loses interest.
Traditionally, performers learned directly from a master. In Uzbekistan, this principle is known as ustoz-shogird – “master and apprentice.” It is used across many traditional arts, from music to crafts.
The system is still at work in the Fergana Valley, one of the main centers of askiya.
At a recent regional competition marking the 116th anniversary of Uzbek actor and comedian Soyib Khodjayev, the askiya club from School No. 57 in the city of Karasu took second place. The school of mastery named after Abdulkhay Makhsum Kazakov from Kurgantepa district won first place, while a team from Jalakuduk district finished third.
Askiya was judged separately from other comic performances and theatrical miniatures. The distinction matters: a sketch can be rehearsed; a verbal duel cannot.
Special schools of mastery also operate in districts of the Fergana region. Young performers train with experienced artists, preserving the traditional method of learning directly from a master.
But a paradox remains: how do you teach someone to invent something no one has invented before?
That question is at the heart of an international conference scheduled for September 17. Its theme is mentorship and creative continuity in askiya and qiziqchilik. The latter term requires some explanation: qiziqchilik is a broader Uzbek tradition of comic performance encompassing humorous storytelling, parody, acting, and stage routines. Within that world, askiya is distinguished above all by its improvised verbal dueling.
Participants at the conference plan to discuss wordplay, stage language, improvisation, and ways of digitizing and preserving an oral art form while keeping it a living tradition.
From the Khan’s Court to Social Media
One of the major figures in the history of the genre is Yusufjon Qiziq Shakarjonov, a native of Margilan in the Fergana Valley.
His life spanned dramatically different eras in Central Asian history. Shakarjonov began training with a Kokand troupe in the 1880s, under Russian rule, and continued performing through the revolutionary period and into the Soviet era. In 1939, he was among the artists who performed for workers building the Great Fergana Canal. He was awarded the title of People’s Artist of Uzbekistan and died in 1959.
Today, the Republican Center for the Art of Askiya and Qiziqchilik bears his name.
His biography also helps explain the genre’s resilience. Askiya does not require scenery or an elaborate stage. All it needs is language, an opponent, and an audience. Everything else can change.
In August, Margilan hosted an evening marking the 80th anniversary of performer Muhammadsiddiq Sheraev. The event was held in the city’s Garden of Creators and admission was free.
Today, the audience does not necessarily have to be sitting in front of a stage at all.
In 2025, the Republican Center and the Ministry of Culture invited performers to submit humorous audio and video works, including material promoting askiya. Entries were posted on social media, with popularity measured by views and likes. The creators of the five most popular works received cash prizes and invitations to national and international comedy events.
For an art built around instant reactions, short form video is an intriguing medium. A line invented in seconds before a live audience can then circulate on social media for months, reaching people far beyond the Fergana Valley.
But a recording preserves a successful joke, not the ability to invent one.
From an old performance, a young askiyachi can hear how a master once escaped a verbal trap. What it cannot teach them is how to answer a completely different opponent tomorrow.
That still has to be decided on the spot: one person throws out a line, the audience waits, and the other has only a few seconds to come up with an answer no one has heard before.
