• KZT/USD = 0.00215
  • TJS/USD = 0.10810
  • UZS/USD = 0.00009
  • TMT/USD = 0.29850
  • KZT/USD = 0.00215
  • TJS/USD = 0.10810
  • UZS/USD = 0.00009
  • TMT/USD = 0.29850
  • KZT/USD = 0.00215
  • TJS/USD = 0.10810
  • UZS/USD = 0.00009
  • TMT/USD = 0.29850
  • KZT/USD = 0.00215
  • TJS/USD = 0.10810
  • UZS/USD = 0.00009
  • TMT/USD = 0.29850
  • KZT/USD = 0.00215
  • TJS/USD = 0.10810
  • UZS/USD = 0.00009
  • TMT/USD = 0.29850
  • KZT/USD = 0.00215
  • TJS/USD = 0.10810
  • UZS/USD = 0.00009
  • TMT/USD = 0.29850
  • KZT/USD = 0.00215
  • TJS/USD = 0.10810
  • UZS/USD = 0.00009
  • TMT/USD = 0.29850
  • KZT/USD = 0.00215
  • TJS/USD = 0.10810
  • UZS/USD = 0.00009
  • TMT/USD = 0.29850
28 August 2026

Viewing results 1 - 6 of 95

Archaeologist Steven Gilbert on Medieval Christianity in Kazakhstan

For almost a decade, archaeologists excavating a medieval Silk Road city in southeastern Kazakhstan have been uncovering evidence of a little-known Christian community that lived there centuries before the Russian conquest. At Ilibalyk, in the Zhetysu region near Kazakhstan’s border with China, they have found a Christian cemetery, dozens of gravestones bearing crosses and epitaphs, a funerary chapel, and burials of women of high social status. In an interview with The Times of Central Asia, American archaeologist Steven Gilbert discusses the discoveries at Ilibalyk, what they reveal about Christianity in medieval Central Asia, and what archaeology can add to Kazakhstanis’ understanding of the region’s past. TCA: What inspired you to pursue archaeology, and how did your research journey bring you to Kazakhstan? Gilbert: I lived in Kazakhstan before I became an archaeologist. I moved to Kazakhstan in 1993, shortly after independence. My wife and I originally came as part of a humanitarian organization because Kazakhstan was facing many difficulties at the time. Our organization was involved in food aid projects in the Aral Sea region and various exchange programs. My interest in archaeology began after a schoolteacher discovered a very large Christian gravestone, one meter long, in Usharal, in the Panfilov district of the Zhetysu region, in 2014. I had previously conducted historical research into Christianity in Central Asia and knew that Christians had been present in the region since the fifth century, and possibly as early as the second century. The discovery of this remarkable artifact, now housed at the Center for the Rapprochement of Cultures in Almaty, allowed me to establish connections with archaeologists from Kazakhstan and the United States. Through them, I returned to the U.S. to study archaeology specifically so that I could work at this and other sites. TCA: What makes the ancient city of Ilibalyk historically unique within the Silk Road network? Gilbert: Ilibalyk was located on an ancient trade route just beyond the Dzungarian Gate in this region. It was a stop before Almaliq, the capital of the Chagataids in the late medieval period. This oasis on the edge of the desert was an important place for travelers both before and after the Mongol conquest. For our research, its uniqueness lies primarily in the fact that we now know that a large community of Turkic-speaking Christians lived here for almost two centuries, from the 12th to the 14th century.They lived in the city alongside followers of several religions: Muslims, Buddhists, Manichaeans, and those who followed traditional religious beliefs that today we call Tengrism. This is the first clearly Christian cemetery discovered in Kazakhstan dating from before the arrival of the Russian Empire. Christian communities and cemeteries had previously been found in Kyrgyzstan, but this is the first reliable evidence of such a community on the territory of modern-day Kazakhstan. TCA: Which of the artifacts and discoveries made by your team at Ilibalyk do you consider the most significant? Gilbert: We have discovered more than 50 gravestones, known as kairaks, bearing images of crosses. Six of...

Opinion: Scents of the Silk Road – Recreating the World of 1001 Nights

Editor’s note: This guest essay is by Efim Rezvan, editor-in-chief of Manuscripta Orientalia and a researcher involved in the Essences of the 1001 Nights project. What was the most valuable cargo carried by medieval caravans crossing Central Asia, or aboard Arab-Muslim ships transporting goods through the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea to the Middle East and Europe? Silk? Porcelain? Yes, in terms of overall volume, that is true. But if we compare volume or weight with value, prized incense and aromatic resins rank among the most valuable goods, with some varieties often compared with gold. Historical data and modern zoological studies suggest that a Bactrian camel in a Silk Road caravan could carry about 150 to 300 kilograms. Aromatic resins and other incense materials were often compared with gold, which helps explain why a relatively small load could represent extraordinary value. Of course, merchants would not treat gold and incense as identical cargo: the caravan system, refined over centuries, prioritized the safety and preservation of goods. As today, wars and epidemics influenced trade conditions, but the pricing trend remained the same. Why did people value incense so highly for thousands of years? Answers to this and many other questions may emerge through the scientific and exhibition project Essences of the 1001 Nights, the launch of which was announced by the international academic journal Manuscripta Orientalia. Researchers from the International Center for Islamic Studies at the Kunstkamera and Saint Petersburg State University are studying the history of Eastern fragrances in an effort to “bring medieval manuscripts to life” and, for the first time, present the public with the olfactory dimension of the legendary tales. Modern research now makes it possible to imagine more clearly what scents might have filled, for example, the bedroom of Scheherazade or the library of Shahryar, the protagonists of One Thousand and One Nights. The project promises not only comprehensive academic research. It will also take the form of an innovative exhibition, a journey through time and space, from the oases of Hadramaut in Yemen to the evergreen region of Dhofar in Oman, long associated with frankincense production and trade; from the streets and mosques of Bukhara and Samarkand to the shores of Sumatra and Java; from manuscript libraries to the offices of historians, chemists, and pharmacologists. The project’s main artistic innovation is the use of olfactory storytelling; narrative through scents. Organizers plan to present ten aromatic compositions that will serve as guides into the world of the Islamic Golden Age. [caption id="attachment_50999" align="aligncenter" width="1200"] Incense seller. Sanaa, Yemen.[/caption] Scents of the Islamic Golden Age Why scents? The corpus of One Thousand and One Nights had largely taken shape by the early 16th century. Its oldest roots and many of its plots originated in India. Persian culture served as a bridge between India and the Arab world. It was the Persian collection Hezar Afsaneh (“A Thousand Tales”) that became the direct precursor of One Thousand and One Nights. The framing story of King Shahryar and the...

A Polyphonic Process: Kazakhstan at the 2026 Venice Biennale

"There is a Kazakh proverb that says: a foolish person arrives with noise, sweeping everything away in their path, while a wise person arrives quietly, carefully observing the world around them." Syrlybek Bekbota, the curator of the Kazakhstan Pavilion at the 61st Venice Biennale – the most important art event in the world – offers me this thought at the dawn of the exhibition's opening, and it feels like both a manifesto and an omen. The theme of the pavilion is perfectly in line with the overarching curatorial theme, In Minor Keys, conceived by the late Cameroonian-Swiss curator Koyo Kouoh, who tragically passed away before the Biennale opened. And yet the controversies around this edition contradicted this minor key premise, instead turning it into a highly political event: the jury's resignation, widespread protests against the participation of Israel and Russia, rallies against the exploitation of art workers. The Kazakh pavilion was not immune to controversies itself, after artist Äsel Kadyrhanova's installation Machine (2013) – a meditation on Stalin-era repression featuring a vintage typewriter, Soviet-era arrest warrants, and red thread – was dismantled before the exhibition opened. However, on the day of the pavilion inauguration itself, no trace of the controversies was visible inside the high-ceilinged space. Listening to the Quiet Housed within the Museo Storico Navale near the Arsenale entrance, Qoñyr: The Archive of Silence marks Kazakhstan's third participation in the International Art Exhibition of La Biennale di Venezia, and its most ambitious yet. It is also worth noting that it is the first time a Central Asian nation has selected its pavilion curator and artists through an open call – open to citizens of Kazakhstan, with priority given to those currently living and working in the country. It is a deliberate emphasis on rootedness rather than the diaspora-friendly internationalism that, for better or worse, dominates many national pavilions. The exhibition centres around the word qoñyr, a key term in Kazakh cosmology. While its literal meaning refers to the colour brown, qoñyr carries a far richer metaphorical significance: it can describe a sonic register, the scent of earth, or a form of silence with deeply embodied meaning. It is the attentiveness to minor vibrations – the wind, the breath, a footstep – that renders audible what is usually displaced by noise. The pavilion takes its cue from a traditional Kazakh instrumental composition of the same name by the twentieth-century composer Äbiken Khasenov, whose work embodies a broader cultural shift: as cultural theorist Zira Nauryzbay has noted, Kazakh music before the twentieth century was predominantly composed in major keys, while the century's upheavals – Soviet occupation, famine, mass deportations – precipitated a distinctive turn toward minor tonalities. That sonic transformation is the exhibition's guiding metaphor. "In periods of global instability, attention is often drawn to loud events and immediate reactions," the curator Bekbota explains. "Within this atmosphere of noise, personal memory, everyday experience, and quieter forms of knowledge can easily remain unnoticed." His curatorial wager is that restraint, rather than volume, can...

Uzbekistan’s ‘When Apricots Blossom’ Shortlisted for Fuorisalone Award at Milan Design Week

Uzbekistan’s first national exhibition at Milan Design Week 2026 has closed with strong international recognition, drawing large crowds and earning praise from critics for its focus on culture, craft, and environmental change. Titled When Apricots Blossom, the exhibition ran from April 20 to 26 at Palazzo Citterio, welcoming around 25,000 visitors over seven days. Organized by the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation (ACDF), the project was commissioned by its chairperson Gayane Umerova and curated by architect Kulapat Yantrasast, founder of WHY Architecture. The exhibition was shortlisted for the main Fuorisalone Award, which recognizes leading installations among the thousands of events held across Milan during the week. It also received a Special Mention from a panel of media partners and critics. The jury praised the project for creating “a dialogue between the space and the content” and for encouraging deeper engagement with its themes. Uzbekistan’s debut comes at a time when design is increasingly addressing global challenges, including climate change and sustainability. In this context, When Apricots Blossom stood out for its focus on the Aral Sea region, one of the world’s most widely recognized environmental disasters. [caption id="attachment_47943" align="aligncenter" width="451"] Cooking demonstration led by Bayrangul. Still from the film Where the Water Ends by Manuel Correa and Marina Otero 2026. Courtesy of ACDF[/caption] Over the past six decades, the Aral Sea has largely disappeared, reshaping life in Karakalpakstan, an autonomous region in northwestern Uzbekistan. The exhibition explored how communities in the area have adapted to these changes, not only through new solutions but also through long-standing traditions. Rather than presenting craft as something of the past, the project framed it as a form of living knowledge. “Our intention was for the Aral Sea to be recognized not only as a site of loss, but as a lens through which design considers broader questions of climate, culture, and responsibility,” Umerova said. She emphasized that collaboration played a key role in the exhibition. Designers from different countries worked alongside Uzbek and Karakalpak artisans, creating a space for exchange between tradition and contemporary practice. “The knowledge exchange between our craftspeople and international designers has helped reconnect past, present, and future,” she said. Inside Palazzo Citterio, visitors moved through installations centered on three fundamental aspects of life: food, shelter, and clothing. These were represented through bread-making, yurt-building, and textile weaving, practices that have helped communities adapt to changing environments. Twelve designers created new works inspired by these traditions, including bread trays and stamps used in the preparation of non, a staple of Uzbek cuisine. Made from materials such as wood, ceramics, felt, and reeds, the objects reflected both local resources and evolving design approaches. The exhibition also included artifacts selected by participants of the Aral School, an international educational program focused on the region through design and research. A film, Where the Water Ends, offered visitors a closer look at the lives and landscapes shaped by the disappearance of the sea. For Yantrasast, the project marks the beginning of a longer process. “This...

Life After the Water: Uzbekistan Brings the Aral Sea Story to Milan

Uzbekistan made its debut at Milan Design Week 2026 on April 20, with When Apricots Blossom, an immersive exhibition at Palazzo Citterio exploring how craft and design can respond to environmental crisis. Running through April 26, the project is organized by the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation (ACDF), commissioned by its chairperson, Gayane Umerova, and curated by Kulapat Yantrasast, founder of WHY Architecture. It marks the country’s first major presentation at one of the world’s leading design platforms. At the center of the project is Karakalpakstan, a region in northwestern Uzbekistan that has experienced one of the world’s most severe environmental crises. Over the past six decades, the shrinking of the Aral Sea has transformed the area’s landscape, economy, and way of life. Once a vast inland body of water, the sea has largely disappeared, leaving behind desert, salt plains, and struggling communities. [caption id="attachment_47478" align="aligncenter" width="926"] The Garden Pavilion at Palazzo Citterio, indicative render: Lightweight latticed framework ‘deconstructed yurt’ by Kulapat Yantrasast. When Apricots Blossom, Milan Design Week 2026. Courtesy of ACDF and WHY Architecture[/caption] When Apricots Blossom traces this transformation while also looking ahead. “The Aral Sea is both a cautionary tale and an opportunity to offer a blueprint for other regions facing extreme environmental change,” Umerova said ahead of the opening. She emphasized that design and craft are not separate from these challenges, but part of the response. “They begin with people and knowledge.” Inside Palazzo Citterio, the exhibition unfolds as a journey through the region’s past, present, and possible futures. The main gallery features an installation of reed-like structures that evoke the landscapes of Karakalpakstan. Within this setting, visitors encounter objects and ideas connecting everyday life with broader environmental questions. A key focus is on three traditional practices: bread-making, yurt-building, and textile crafts. These are presented not as relics of the past, but as systems of knowledge shaped by generations of adaptation. [caption id="attachment_47534" align="aligncenter" width="8192"] Bethan Laura Wood at Palazzo Citterio - When Apricots Blossom - commissioned by ACDF. Image courtesy of ACDF[/caption] Twelve international designers have worked with Uzbek and Karakalpak artisans to create new pieces inspired by these traditions. Among them are custom bread trays and stamps (chekich), reflecting the central role of bread in Uzbek culture. Made from materials such as wood, felt, ceramics, and reeds, the works reinterpret familiar forms while remaining rooted in local techniques. Alongside these contemporary designs are artifacts selected by participants of the Aral School, an international postgraduate program that treats the region as a site for creative and critical exploration. The exhibition also premieres Where the Water Ends, a new film by filmmaker Manuel Correa and architect Marina Otero Verzier, offering a closer look at landscapes and communities shaped by the Aral Sea’s decline. [caption id="attachment_47480" align="aligncenter" width="976"] The main gallery interior, indicative render: Reed-link forms by WHY Architecture. When Apricots Blossom - Milan Design Week 2026. Courtesy of ACDF and WHY Architecture[/caption] Together, these elements form a broader narrative about how people adapt to...

How Young Professionals from Central Asia Are Building Global Careers

Beyond opportunity, a new generation of Central Asians is learning how to compete, adapt, and fit into global work environments. “I felt like I would understand what real work is much faster by living in the U.S.,” Ruzana Ileuova says. Many people view building a career abroad as an opportunity. However, for Central Asian professionals, it also entails constantly adapting to new identities and expectations. While logging in to work every day from a location that feels both familiar and unfamiliar, Ruzana learns to trust her abilities and adapt to unspoken expectations. She says that pressure increases when working remotely, as it requires a high level of self-discipline. “I always feel like I have to do more to prove myself,” she says. Despite strong language skills and academic preparation, she describes an ongoing sense of self-doubt, particularly in high-performance environments. “Even the language barrier still gives me imposter syndrome,” she adds. “And I’m the youngest on my team.” Her narrative highlights a crucial aspect of this generation: success overseas requires constant negotiation of confidence, identity, and location, in addition to opportunity. Reinventing the Path For others, the path to an international career begins not with a plan, but with chance. Originally from Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, Aman Arykbaev did not imagine a global career. His journey began when he was unexpectedly selected for the green card lottery. “I used to think the green card was not a real thing until I saw that I was selected,” he says. His early years were characterized by uncertainty, as he arrived in the United States with little money and no guidance. “I worked almost two years installing heating, ventilation, and air conditioning. At that time, my English was very weak,” Arykbaev recalls. After attending a six-month IT boot camp, he was able to enter a new field and land his first tech job in a matter of weeks. “I had several interview stages, and by the end of the week, I got an offer.” Arykbaev, who is currently a senior quality engineer, exemplifies a characteristic of this generation: the ability to change course. Careers are now rebuilt, sometimes from the ground up, rather than fixed. Breaking Into Global Systems The route was more regimented, but no less difficult, for Aldiyar Bekturganov, an Amazon software engineer. He followed a well-known path of internships, networking, and applications after relocating to the U.S. for college. However, the process was anything but easy. “I failed my first interview completely,” he says. That setback accelerated his learning curve. Even after landing a job, entering the workforce was not without its challenges. The shift from university to professional life, he explains, was immediate. “You suddenly realize the work actually matters,” he says. “If something is delayed, people are waiting on you.” Unlike academic settings, where mistakes are part of the process, professional environments demand results that affect teams and timelines. While Bekturganov represents a more traditional corporate trajectory, Dameli Bozzhanova offers a contrasting perspective shaped by entrepreneurship and flexibility. Working in...