• KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10456 0.19%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28490 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10456 0.19%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28490 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10456 0.19%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28490 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10456 0.19%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28490 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10456 0.19%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28490 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10456 0.19%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28490 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10456 0.19%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28490 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00212 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10456 0.19%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28490 0%

Viewing results 1 - 6 of 114

Poems by the Kazakh Poet Abay Recited in Paris in Nine Languages

The legacy of the Kazakh poet Abay Kunanbayev recently brought together representatives of different nations in Paris. His works were recited in Kazakh, French, Russian, Chechen, Buryat, Kalmyk, Ingush, Tuvan, and Yakut. The Association of Kazakh Women in France, “QazElles,” thus supported the recently announced proposal to include Abay’s work Words of Admonition on the UNESCO World Heritage List. “As you know, UNESCO’s headquarters are in Paris, so the news that one of Kazakhstan’s most significant literary monuments could officially become part of UNESCO’s World Heritage List is very personal to us. How can we support this? By bringing together those who are not yet familiar with Abay’s work and introducing them to his major poetic masterpieces. This year, Abay’s works will be presented in the languages of various diasporas living in France with whom we are friends,” said Madina Kulmanova, president of the “QazElles” association, in an interview with The Times of Central Asia. [caption id="attachment_46355" align="aligncenter" width="225"] QazElles photos archive[/caption] The monument to Abay, located in the Poets’ Square of the French capital, has become a regular meeting place for admirers of his work since its unveiling in 2021. For Kazakhs living in France, it has become a tradition to hold the “Abay Readings” annually at the poet’s bust to promote the legacy of the founder of Kazakh written literature. This time, Abay in Paris brought together not only Kazakh and French people, but also representatives of the peoples of the Caucasus, as well as Buryat and Kalmyk associations in France. Said Musa Batyrgereev, a representative of the Chechen diaspora: “I am here representing the Association ‘Guardians of Mountain Cultures in France’ and as a representative of the Chechen people. Today we have gathered at the monument to Abay Kunanbayev to honor his memory. Abay was a great poet and a wise man who taught kindness, respect, and humanity. And today I would like to thank the Kazakh people from the bottom of my heart for the help and support they provided to the Chechen people in 1944. We will never forget this.” Representatives of the “Peuple du Baïkal” association, which unites representatives of the peoples of Russia’s Baikal region, thanked the “QazElles” association for the invitation to the annual readings of Abay Kunanbayev’s poems. In the poem they chose to read, “Quiet Night Under the Moon” (“Jelsiz tünde jaryq ai”), the poet lovingly describes the beauty of nature and the tenderness of relationships. [caption id="attachment_46356" align="aligncenter" width="225"] QazElles photos archive[/caption] Radmila Boyer, a representative of the association, noted that listening to Abay’s poem immerses one in a world of beauty and love. “This poetic morning brought us, different peoples, closer together, gave us a wonderful mood, the joy of communication, and inspiration for future joint cultural projects,” she said. Tulips were laid at the Abay monument in honor of the readings. This served as a reference to another project by the “QazElles” association, which, with the support of the Shymkent city authorities, the Embassy of Kazakhstan in...

From a Vanishing Sea to Milan’s Spotlight: When Apricots Blossom, a Lost Sea Speaks

From April 20 to 26, 2026, Uzbekistan will present one of its most ambitious cultural projects to date at the Milan Design Week. Titled When Apricots Blossom, the exhibition will take place at Palazzo Citterio in Milan’s Brera district, transforming the historic space into a multi-layered exploration of craft, memory, and environmental change. Organized by the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation, the exhibition is commissioned by its chairperson, Gayane Umerova, and curated by architect Kulapat Yantrasast, founder of WHY Architecture. Bringing together twelve international designers and Uzbek artisans, the project explores how traditional knowledge can help societies respond to environmental crises. At its core lies Karakalpakstan, an autonomous region in northwestern Uzbekistan that has experienced one of the world’s most severe ecological disasters. A Story Rooted in Loss and Resilience The exhibition takes its name from a poem by Hamid Olimjon, written in the 1930s as a reflection on hope and renewal. Today, that symbolism carries renewed relevance. For decades, the Aral Sea has been shrinking. Once one of the largest inland bodies of water in the world, it has lost more than 90% of its volume since the 1960s, largely due to irrigation policies that diverted its feeder rivers. The result is a transformed landscape of desert, salt plains, and fragmented ecosystems, with communities forced to adapt to rapid environmental change. [caption id="attachment_30520" align="aligncenter" width="2560"] Moynaq. Aral Culture Summit 2025; image courtesy of Iwan Baan and ACDF[/caption] Rather than focusing solely on loss, When Apricots Blossom highlights how communities continue to live, create, and adapt. Visitors enter through a façade transformed by a large textile installation by British designer Bethan Laura Wood, created in collaboration with Uzbek artisans. Drawing on decorative elements used in nomadic yurts, tassels, ribbons, and woven patterns, the work creates a vivid and tactile threshold. Inside the courtyard, an installation of apricot trees by Uzbek floral artist Ruben Saakyan sets the tone. The apricot, both a symbol of hospitality and a key Uzbek export, also reflects resilience, continuing to grow even in the harsh conditions of the Aral Sea region. Further inside, a “deconstructed yurt” designed by WHY Architecture serves as a central gathering space, reflecting the adaptability of nomadic shelter traditions. Craft as Knowledge, Not Decoration For Umerova, this distinction is central. “Craft in Karakalpakstan is more than tradition, it is a system of knowledge,” she told The Times of Central Asia. “It has evolved over centuries in close relationship with the land.” [caption id="attachment_46319" align="aligncenter" width="1440"] Handwoven textiles on a traditional loom at “When Apricots Blossom”; image: ACDF[/caption]   Umerova notes that materials such as wood, silk, felt, ceramic, and reed reflect a deep understanding of local ecosystems. These practices are passed down through generations, carrying both technical skills and cultural knowledge. In the context of the Aral Sea crisis, this knowledge takes on renewed importance. “The communities there have long developed ways of adapting to changing environments,” she told TCA. “Their craft traditions embody this resilience.” For Umerova, sustainability is as...

Munara Abdukakharova: Stories of Art, Identity, and Political Memory from Kyrgyzstan

A yellow hammer-and-sickle symbol is sewn onto black, yellow, blue and red mattresses in Up on Manas, down on Sovetskaya, a powerful artwork by artist Munara Abdukakharova presented last year at Fondazione Elpis in Milan. Inspired by the traditional kurak korpe (the hand-stitched patchwork cushions and mattresses that roll up like futons), the piece reimagines a familiar domestic object as a carrier of collective memory for Central Asian migrants, often the most tangible material link to home. Born in 1990 in Bishkek, just one year before Kyrgyzstan declared independence from the Soviet Union, Abdukakharova belongs to a generation that grew up during a profound political and cultural transition. The lingering Soviet legacy, the rise of nationalism, increasing religious influence, and the pressures of global capitalism all intersect in her work, which frequently draws on textiles, felt, and everyday objects rooted in local culture. “The art I make is mostly narrative, based on my everyday life, and depicts broader social issues in Kyrgyzstan,” says Abdukakharova from her home in Bishkek, from where she realizes most of her work. A finalist of the B. Bubikanova Art Prize, Abdukakharova works across embroidery, printmaking, photography, and installation. Speaking to The Times of Central Asia, she reflects on her path from architecture to contemporary art, the political realities shaping life in Bishkek, and the role artists play in questioning the direction of a young nation. TCA: You often describe your artistic practice as emerging from observation and your everyday experience. Did you grow up in a family that was into art? Abdukakharova: Not at all. All the members of my family are pharmacists, and while my parents wanted me to go to medical school, I couldn’t; I’m really scared of blood! (laughs) I went to an architectural school instead. I didn’t draw as a child, but I remember really liking to dismantle objects, whether it was toys or even a chair, furniture, and trying to put it back again… something I still love to do. The passion for drawing came only later on, in high school. TCA: Your decision to study architecture in Bishkek came at a time when many young people in Kyrgyzstan still looked toward Russia for their education. Could you describe the circumstances that led you to that choice and the cultural expectations surrounding it? Abdukakharova: When I finished high school in 2008, studying in Moscow was still seen as the best option. Unlike how it is today, growing up in Bishkek, there was a strong belief that anything coming from the former Soviet Union was inherently good. The teacher who helped me prepare university applications only suggested schools in Moscow or St. Petersburg; other countries were never really discussed, even though I already spoke English quite fluently. Looking back, I realize how dominant that perspective was at the time. I took a gap year, thinking that I could go to an art school later, maybe the Moscow Surikov State Academic Institute of Fine Arts. In the end, my parents didn’t let...

The Language Nobody Wants to Speak About: Russian’s Uneasy Place in Central Asia’s Cultural Conversation

Rhetoric in segments of the Russian media has sharpened debates over sovereignty and influence across Central Asia, pushing these concerns beyond policy circles and into everyday conversations. The region is reassessing not only pipelines and alliances, but language itself. In politics, this shift is visible and symbolic. In culture, it is more difficult to discern. The Russian language still shapes how Central Asian art is funded, circulated, and institutionally processed, even as institutions distance themselves from Moscow’s influence. This contradiction sits at the heart of contemporary cultural life in the region. Artists produce work rooted in Kazakh, Uzbek, Kyrgyz, Tajik, or Turkmen histories. They title exhibitions in local languages. They speak passionately about decolonial futures and cultural sovereignty. But when the catalogue is written, the grant application submitted, or the curatorial text sent abroad, the language quietly shifts. First to Russian, sometimes to English, and only occasionally does it remain in the local language. This is not nostalgia, but a structural inheritance. Russian remains the shared professional language of much of the urban cultural sector. Edward Lemon, President of the Oxus Society for Central Asian Affairs, argues that the language’s endurance reflects both ideology and pragmatism. “While local languages have become much more widespread as the Central Asian republics have strengthened their nationhood and as there has been an increase in anti-Russian sentiments since the invasion of Ukraine, Russian language use remains widespread,” Lemon told TCA. “Despite the ideological imperative to reduce reliance on Russian, there are some pragmatic reasons why it remains prominent. High levels of migration to Russia, particularly from Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan, mean that a basic competence in the language is essential to survival for many Central Asians. Russian remains a language of interethnic communication, particularly in Kazakhstan, where ethnic Russians, for the most part, are reluctant to speak Kazakh. While English has become more widespread and some of the Central Asian languages are mutually intelligible, Russian retains a status as a diplomatic, business, and civil society language for those working in multiple countries. Russia also remains a language of education. Over 200,000 Central Asians study in Russia, by far the largest destination in the world. Russian-language schools remain prominent at every level in Central Asia, from kindergarten to graduate schools. In short, while the usage of Russian is in slow decline, its position is relatively entrenched.” For cultural institutions, this reality means that distancing from Moscow politically does not automatically sever the linguistic infrastructure through which grants are written, exhibitions travel, and contracts are signed. Naima Morelli, an arts writer focused on contemporary art across Asia-Pacific and the Middle East, argues that the issue is less about elimination than coexistence. “For me, it makes sense that Russian continues to function as a practical operating language across Central Asia’s cultural infrastructure, as an inherited connective tissue of sorts. In the hypothesis of getting rid of it, the most obvious alternative for a shared language for exchanges across countries in Central Asia is English, which the global...

A Breakout Year for Contemporary Art in Kazakhstan

The year 2025 marked not only a busy period for contemporary art in Kazakhstan but also a decisive acceleration. Art moved beyond professional circles, claimed urban spaces, entered international agendas, and ceased to be a conversation “for insiders only.” The Kazakhstani art scene spoke with growing confidence both at home and abroad. New institutions, landmark exhibitions, festivals, and global collaborations signaled a pivotal shift: contemporary art has become a visible and integral component of the country’s cultural fabric. New Museums and Art Spaces in Kazakhstan Geographically, Almaty emerged as the epicenter of contemporary art activity in 2025. The city saw the opening of key institutions that became new focal points for artists, curators, and audiences. Opening of the Almaty Museum of Arts (ALMA) On September 12, 2025, the Almaty Museum of Arts (ALMA) opened its doors in Almaty, becoming one of the largest contemporary art museums in Central Asia. From the outset, ALMA signaled serious institutional ambitions, with a mission to support and study contemporary art processes and situate them within a global cultural context. The museum’s collection includes around 700 works, more than 70% of which are by notable Kazakhstani artists of the 20th century, such as Zhanatai Shardenov, Tokbolat Togyzbayev, Makym Kisameddinov, and Shaimardan Sariyev. Contemporary artists like Rustem Khalfin, Saule Suleimenova, and Said Atabekov are also prominently featured. Designed by the British architectural bureau Chapman Taylor, the 10,000-square-meter museum includes expansive exhibition halls (“The Great Steppe,” “Saryarka”), an Art Street atrium, storage and restoration facilities, and a creative workshop, setting a new standard for museum infrastructure in the region. [caption id="attachment_42431" align="aligncenter" width="1200"] Installation view of "I Understand Everything" – Almagul Menlibayeva (12 September 2025 - May 2026), Almaty Museum of Arts; image: Alexey Naroditsky[/caption] Tselinny Center of Contemporary Culture: Reclaiming a Building and Its Meaning Just days earlier, on September 5, 2025, the Tselinny Center of Contemporary Culture was inaugurated in Almaty. Housed in a restored 1964 Soviet-era cinema, the building underwent nearly seven years of renovation led by British architect Asif Khan. Notably, the facade’s unique sgraffito by artist Evgeny Sidorkin was preserved. The transformed space now features an exhibition hall, library, cafe, and workshop areas. Its opening was marked by the performance BARSAKELMES, with initial public access free of charge. Tselinny now operates three days a week and serves as a vital platform for exhibitions, education, and creative dialogue. [caption id="attachment_42433" align="aligncenter" width="2400"] The Tselinny Center of Contemporary Culture; image: SAPARLAS/Zhanarbek Amankulov[/caption] A. Kasteev State Museum of Arts: A New Status and Contemporary Focus Kazakhstan’s primary national art institution also redefined its role in 2025. Celebrating its 90th anniversary, the A. Kasteev State Museum of Arts was granted National Museum status. In conjunction with this milestone, a new gallery dedicated to contemporary Kazakhstani art from the independence period was unveiled. The exhibition Memory. Space. Progress brought together works from leading artists, charting the development of artistic practice from the 1990s to the present. Contributors included members of the Shymkent-based Red Tractor group, Almaty conceptualists,...

Mapping the Inner Landscape: An Interview with Oyjon Khayrullaeva

In recent years, a new generation of Uzbek artists has begun to reshape how culture, history, and identity are visually narrated. Among them is Oyjon Khayrullaeva, whose practice moves fluidly between photography, digital collage, and large-scale public installations. Born after independence and largely self-trained outside formal art institutions, Khayrullaeva works with inherited visual languages such as Islamic ornament and traditional textiles, reassembling them into contemporary forms that speak to the present moment. Her recent project for the Bukhara Biennial, called “Eight Lives,” marks a turning point in this exploration. Installed in the public and historical spaces of the ancient city, the work consists of monumental mosaic organs that connect physical vulnerability with emotional states and collective memory. Through the human body, Khayrullaeva maps experiences of anxiety, healing, spirituality, and social pressure, transforming ornament into anatomy and architecture into inner landscape. The Times of Central Asia spoke with the artist to trace how Eight Lives emerged, how collaboration with mosaic masters shaped its final form, and how audiences in Uzbekistan are responding to seeing contemporary art in public spaces. TCA: Can you tell me about your beginnings as an artist? Did you always want to become one? Khayrullaeva: From early childhood, my parents noticed that there was something a bit unusual about me. My father has always called me - and still does - an “alien,” because I’m probably the only person in my family who chose a creative path. No one else in my family has been involved in art, at least not for the past seven generations. I was always a creative child, but I never imagined that I would become an artist. As a child, I tried many things; I went to music school, studied piano, and attended various creative clubs. Still, the idea of pursuing art professionally never crossed my mind. Becoming an artist was, in many ways, an unexpected turn in my life. For a very long time, honestly, until around the age of 24, I had no clear idea of what I wanted to do or what my profession would be. I was never certain about it. So yes, life is an interesting thing. You never really know where it’s going to lead you. TCA: Your artistic journey began with photography before evolving into digital collage. How did your early work in photography shape the way you now approach layering, texture, and composition in your digital pieces? Khayrullaeva: When I was around 17 or 18, I became interested in photography. At that time, I didn’t have a camera, so I was shooting with my phone. For my birthday, I was given some money, and I decided to use it to buy a camera. My father added a bit more, and I bought my very first one. It was an incredible feeling taking photos, holding the camera, and shooting. Mobile photography and working with a camera are completely different experiences, and that difference brought me so much joy. I remember the pure pleasure of photographing everything...