Cultural Heritage - The Times Of Central Asia

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Silk Road

The Artistic Brilliance of Central Asia Takes Center Stage at Sotheby’s

On October 29, Sotheby’s will host its Arts of the Islamic World and India sale, featuring a dazzling selection of manuscripts, ceramics, metalwork, and jewelry that together trace the creative reach of Central Asia across six centuries. The auction highlights how the region’s artists shaped Islamic visual culture from the early medieval period to the Timurid age. Among the most important works is a rare page from the monumental Baysunghur Qur’an, produced around 1400 in Herat or Samarkand. Another piece connects to the earlier Samanid Dynasty, whose rule from Bukhara and Tashkent fostered a flourishing of calligraphic pottery in the ninth and tenth centuries. The Arab geographer al-Maqdisi once praised the “large bowls from Shash,” an early name for Tashkent, noting their reputation throughout the Islamic world. [caption id="attachment_38298" align="aligncenter" width="1797"] A line from the 'Baysunghur Qur'an', attributed to 'Umar al-Aqta, Herat or Samarkand, circa 1400; image: Sotheby's[/caption] Two colorful Timurid mosaic tiles from the fourteenth or fifteenth century illustrate the architectural splendor of Samarkand and Herat. Their glazed patterns in cobalt, turquoise, and white once formed part of vast decorative panels in mosques and mausoleums. The geometric interlace and stylized foliage that define them became a visual signature of Timurid architecture, a style that spread from Central Asia to Persia and India. [caption id="attachment_38301" align="aligncenter" width="1346"] A Golden Horde turquoise and pearl-set gold belt or necklace, Pontic-Caspian Steppe, 14th century; image: Sotheby's[/caption] The Times of Central Asia spoke with Frankie Keyworth, a specialist in Islamic and Indian Art at Sotheby’s, for a closer look. TCA: How did manuscripts like the Baysunghur Qur’an serve as symbols of power and faith in the Timurid court, and what does its immense scale - a Qur’an so vast it took two people to turn a page - reveal about the empire’s ambition, artistry, and self-image? Keyworth: The manuscript was a hugely ambitious and challenging project, even just by the tools it would take to create, with monumental sheets of paper measuring 177 by 101cm., and a large pen whose nib would have to measure over 1cm. Displayed on a magnificent marble stand, the manuscript would be a staggering visual representation of the patron’s wealth and piety. Their subsequent use during public recitation reinforced the elite’s religious aspirations. The fact that this manuscript is unsurpassed by any other medieval Qur’an and remains so valued centuries after it was produced at the turn of the 15th century reveals the key role manuscripts played in the establishment of the Timurid dynastic image. [caption id="attachment_38299" align="aligncenter" width="1346"] A Timurid brass jug (mashrabe), Herat, Afghanistan, 15th-early 16th century; image: Sotheby's[/caption] TCA: A brass jug from Herat shaped like a Chinese vase, a ceramic bowl from Tashkent inscribed in Arabic script - these objects tell of traders, scholars, and artists linking worlds from Samarkand to Beijing long before globalization had a name. What can you tell us about how this trade transpired, and are there similarities to modern transport corridors? Keyworth: Trade via the so-called Silk Road endured for...

Cultural Heritage

From the Highlands to the Steppes: The Long Journey of the Bagpipe

On 28 July 2025, as the skirl of bagpipes echoed across the windswept greens of President Trump’s Turnberry golf resort, two world leaders met under the Scottish flag. U.K. Prime Minister Keir Starmer and U.S. President Donald Trump gathered for “wide-ranging talks” on trade and global conflicts — yet it was the sound of a Scottish pipe band that first captured attention. For President Trump, whose mother was born in the Outer Hebrides, the music carried a personal resonance. The bagpipe, long a symbol of Scotland’s spirit, continues to speak across generations and continents — from clan gatherings and state ceremonies to moments of diplomacy. Its sound is unmistakably Scottish: bold, mournful, and proud. Yet across the ancient world, far beyond the Highlands, other peoples once drew the same haunting tones from leather and reed — among them the nomads of what is now Kazakhstan. Echoes from the East Centuries before the first Highland marches, nomadic Turkic peoples were playing an instrument remarkably similar in design — the zhelbuaz. Crafted from goat or sheepskin and fitted with two or more reed pipes, it produced the same soulful harmony that defines the modern bagpipe. When filled with air and played from horseback or during ceremonies, it created a sound that was at once haunting and powerful, much like the music that still moves crowds today. As the people of the Central Asian steppes were largely nomadic for most of their history, there is scant hard evidence. However, early scholars described the zhelbuaz (or mes-syrnai) as an ancient wind instrument made from a single piece of animal skin or stomach. Al-Farabi wrote of a “wineskin flute” among the Turkic tribes, and the Chinese traveler Wen Sun, visiting the Orkhon region in the 7th century, reportedly recorded a Turk playing a "leather instrument with two pipes, whose sound deepens the sadness of the mourners.” The Journey Westward Over centuries, the idea of the air-filled reed instrument migrated westward — first through trade and migration, and then through cultural contact. Variants appeared in Eastern Europe: the duda in Poland, the tulum in Azerbaijan, and the musette in France. Linguists note that modern terms such as duu (meaning “song” in Mongolian) and düdük (meaning “whistle” in Turkish) suggest a shared onomatopoetic pattern for wind instruments and vocal sound across Eurasia, hinting at, though not proving, a linguistic thread connecting these distant traditions. But it was in Scotland that the instrument found its fullest voice. There, in the hands of Highland clans, it became more than music — it became identity. The Great Highland Bagpipe emerged as a call to arms, a hymn of remembrance, and a symbol of a people’s endurance. Its power lies not just in its sound, but in what it represents: honor, courage, and belonging. [caption id="attachment_38114" align="aligncenter" width="960"] Image: Ykhlas Museum of Folk Musical Instruments[/caption] The Zhelbuaz Remembered In Kazakhstan, the zhelbuaz gradually disappeared from everyday life, its haunting voice surviving only in oral memory and museum collections. Today, musician Abzal...

Soft Power

Beneath the Silk Road: China’s Archaeological Diplomacy in Uzbekistan

As China’s economic footprint expands across Central Asia, Beijing is quietly pursuing another, subtler form of influence - one that reaches beneath the soil rather than above it. Alongside highways, pipelines, and industrial parks, China is investing in archaeological diplomacy that uses shared history and cultural discovery to deepen ties with its neighbors. Uzbekistan has emerged as a key partner in this effort. Beyond trade and infrastructure, the two countries are now working hand in hand to uncover the remnants of ancient civilizations that once thrived along the Silk Road. This collaboration combines science and strategy, offering a soft power approach that complements China’s growing hard power presence in the region. Across Uzbekistan’s Surkhandarya, Samarkand, Ferghana, and Khorezm regions, joint Chinese-Uzbek teams are making discoveries. One notable example is the joint Chinese-Uzbek team working at the Chinar-Tepa site in the upper Surkhandarya River valley, where researchers have uncovered more than 30 ancient house foundations along with a rich collection of cultural artifacts. Another major project has revealed the remains of an Iron Age city-state in the Surkhandarya River basin in southern Uzbekistan. These findings are the result of three excavation seasons conducted between 2024 and 2025, during which the joint team surveyed 47 sites across the basin and identified the area as a major center of ancient Bactria. This cooperation is not just confined to the field. In October 2023, Ferghana State University and Chinese partners launched a joint archaeology department. Their subsequent joint studies of the ancient city of Kuva have revealed key insights into urban planning, including city walls, moats, and roads dating back centuries. Meanwhile, China’s funding for the restoration of the ancient city of Khiva highlights another layer of cultural collaboration on the preservation of shared heritage. For both countries, archaeology is more than an academic pursuit; it's a bridge between culture, economy, and future cooperation. For Uzbekistan, cities like Samarkand, Bukhara, and Khiva are already world-renowned tourist destinations. The government’s ambition to attract up to 15 million foreign visitors underscores tourism’s growing role in national development. Unearthing new historical sites expands this potential, offering travelers a richer experience that spans both the pre-Islamic and Islamic eras. Each discovery deepens the cultural map of Uzbekistan, and each new site means more visitors, more investment, and greater economic diversification for the state. Beyond the economic dimension, the partnership with China is also cultivating a new generation of experts in archaeology and heritage preservation. Many members of these joint excavation teams belong to the post-2000 generation, young professionals who are gaining firsthand experience through collaboration. With access to cutting-edge technologies such as drone-based aerial photography, geomagnetic surveying, and 3D modeling, Uzbek archaeologists and students are learning to combine traditional excavation with modern science. Over time, this knowledge transfer strengthens the country’s human capital base, empowering Uzbekistan to pursue its own archaeological research and heritage conservation independently on a larger scale. For China, promoting joint archaeological exploration aligns closely with the Belt and Road Initiative’s vision of soft connectivity....

Kazakh Culture

How a Kazakh Writer`s Book About American Couch Grass Was Written

During his lifetime, Gabit Musirepov was celebrated as a people’s writer, translator, dramatist, critic, academician, Hero of Socialist Labor, and statesman. Known in Kazakhstan as the “Master of Words,” he became a figure of national pride, and his works continue to be widely read today. What is less known, however, is the story of his very first book. Long before he became famous for his fiction, Musirepov published a small agricultural manual titled Amirkan Bidayygy (American Couch Grass). Released in 1928 by the “Kazakhstan State” publishing house in Kyzylorda with a circulation of 5,000, the booklet sought to answer a pressing question: how could Kazakh farmers improve their fields and livestock fodder? [caption id="attachment_36744" align="aligncenter" width="308"] First page of book Amirkan Bidayygy (American Couch Grass)[/caption] The introduction explained the need for such a work. At the time, Kazakh peasants planted oats, millet, wheat, and barley, but often without proper techniques. Fodder crops were largely unknown, except in limited areas along the Syr Darya River. Previous manuals existed, but they were poorly translated from Russian or intended for experienced Russian farmers, making them inaccessible to Kazakhs. Musirepov’s book, written in plain language and tailored to local conditions, filled that gap. This was Musirepov’s first published book. He wrote it in early 1927, the same year his first prose work, In the Grip of the Sea, appeared later in the autumn. Fellow writer Sabit Mukanov recalled: “After graduating from the Orenburg Workers’ Faculty in 1926, Gabit entered the Agricultural Academy in Omsk. In early 1927, he sent me his booklet Amirkan Bidayygy for publication. We printed it. I still keep his letter where he wrote, ‘The money from this book kept my family fed for half the winter.’” The publisher acknowledged in the foreword that the young author might have overlooked some scientific details, but praised the work as “one of the best guides for improving the lives of Kazakh peasants,” insisting that every farmer should read it. [caption id="attachment_36745" align="aligncenter" width="436"] Musirepov`s introduction[/caption] In his own introduction, Musirepov explained, “I had two goals. First, to show why farming remained unproductive by pointing out poor land conditions. Second, to offer ways of overcoming these problems and raising productivity. I believe I achieved both.” This statement reflects the sincerity and social purpose that would later define his literary career: whatever he wrote, it was always with the hope of benefiting his people. Musirepov also asked a practical question: What kind of grass does the Kazakh land need? His answer was clear - crops that could withstand severe winters, scorching summers, and drought, while producing abundant, nutritious fodder and enriching the soil. After considering various options, he concluded that yellow alfalfa and American couch grass were the most suitable. Of the two, he argued, couch grass was best suited to Kazakhstan’s harsh climate.

Central Asian Art

From Rare Collectibles to Mainstream Chic: The Suzani’s American Story

At the turn of the century, a suzani, the traditional embroidered textile from Central Asia, was almost impossible to find in the United States. These pieces, once given as dowries in Uzbekistan and Tajikistan, were the kind of object you might stumble upon in the back room of a rug gallery or in the private collection of a well-traveled dealer. To collectors, they were mysterious and precious, valued partly for their rarity as much as their beauty. Today, in New York and across the U.S., suzanis are everywhere. They hang in boutique hotel lobbies, appear in glossy interior design magazines, and are sold by the dozen on Etsy and Instagram. The journey from rarity to ubiquity is both cause for celebration and reason for reflection, and reveals how cultural objects travel, are reinterpreted, and can carry heritage into new contexts. Rooted in family life and ritual, suzanis were traditionally embroidered by brides with circular and floral motifs, each stitch carrying symbolic meaning. They were displayed at weddings, passed down through generations, and treasured as heirlooms, remaining within Central Asian households for centuries before appearing on international auction blocks or design blogs. Shortly after the collapse of the Soviet Union, suzanis began appearing in the U.S., arriving primarily through Istanbul’s antique textile markets. These textiles - once private heirlooms - caught the eye of auction houses in London and New York as rare examples of artistry. As design editors and boutique retailers rediscovered their vibrant motifs and handmade quality, suzanis shifted from decorative obscurity to sought-after global accents. Collectors quickly prized their vivid palettes and dense embroidery, and museums displayed them as artifacts of a little-known artistic tradition. At auction houses, the most exceptional pieces commanded astonishing prices. For instance, a Shakhrisabz (Green City) suzani from eighteenth-century Uzbekistan was recently valued at up to £50,000 ($67,000) at Sotheby’s in London. As someone who once ran a family Persian rug gallery in the Midwest, I remember the excitement when a genuine suzani appeared. It was almost mythical, a piece that drew genuine excitement from serious buyers and curiosity from casual visitors. In New York, designers showcase suzanis as bedspreads, wall hangings, and upholstery, while fashion houses borrow their patterns for prints. The mainstream embrace is a sign that a once-overlooked textile is now celebrated as part of the city’s design vocabulary, and that Central Asian culture is being appreciated in new ways. Hand-embroidered suzanis take months of work, with their thread tension, symbolic motifs, and slight irregularities forming part of their beauty. Machine-made copies, now sold widely online, mimic the look but erase the artistry; selling for a fraction of the price, they may look authentic but have no connection to Central Asian makers or traditions. Yet the enduring appeal of hand-stitched suzanis shows that authenticity continues to matter, and that the artistry behind these textiles cannot be replaced by machines. As suzanis find their way into new settings, they show that traditions remain vibrant as they adapt and endure. Their symbols...

Jalal-Abad

From Jalal-Abad to Manas: Kyrgyzstan Writes Its Epic in Stone

On September 18, Kyrgyz President Sadyr Japarov signed a law renaming the city of Jalal-Abad to Manas. Parliament had previously approved the bill unanimously on 10 September 2025, with lawmakers declaring that the change aims to strengthen national ideology and perpetuate the legacy of the Kyrgyz people’s national hero, Manas. The law will come into force ten days after its official publication. History of Jalal-Abad The city long known as Jalal-Abad sits in southern Kyrgyzstan, about 520 kilometers from Bishkek, near the Uzbek border. It traces its origins to a 19th-century caravanserai and spa. Jalal-Abad was first recognized as a town in 1877 under the Russian Empire, and its status was reaffirmed in 1927 during the Soviet period. Today, it is a regional hub of light industry, agriculture, and services, with a population of more than 180,000. The city is famed for its mineral springs and the nearby walnut forests of the Ferghana foothills, which have been used for centuries as sources of food and medicine. Jalal-Abad has also been a focal point of Kyrgyz political life, serving as a southern stronghold during waves of protest that reshaped national politics. Why “Manas”? The Manas epic occupies a foundational place in Kyrgyz cultural identity. Recited by generations of manaschi (epic singers), it recounts the deeds of Manas, a legendary tribal leader who united the Kyrgyz and defended them from foreign enemies. The trilogy (Manas, Semetey, Seytek) runs to hundreds of thousands of lines, making it the longest epic poem in the world. UNESCO describes the work as “an oral encyclopedia of the Kyrgyz people,” a living tradition that preserves values of unity, honor, hospitality, and courage. Performances of the epic remain central to weddings, funerals, and public celebrations. By renaming Jalal-Abad to Manas, lawmakers are seeking to embed these ideals in the civic identity of one of Kyrgyzstan’s largest cities. Political Debate and Local Reactions The renaming bill was introduced by Kudaibergen Bazarbaev, head of the State Agency for Civil Service and Local Government Affairs, and supported by both the Jalal-Abad City Council and the president’s regional representative. The cost of the change is estimated at about 15 million Kyrgyz som (roughly $150,000), to be paid from the local budget. The debate in parliament highlighted the symbolic weight of the change. MP Mirlan Samyikozho told colleagues: “There should be no news on the Internet about Manas prostitutes, Manas corrupt officials, Manas rapists in the future.” Others suggested shifting the image of Manas away from the traditional horse-mounted warrior to that of a just ruler on a throne. Supporters say the change reflects the wishes of residents and strengthens national pride. Critics argue it diverts attention from pressing issues such as infrastructure and employment. On social media, reactions have been mixed. An Instagram post documenting the decision drew both celebratory comments about cultural pride and skeptical remarks about municipal spending priorities. The Epic as National Symbol For many Kyrgyz, the name Manas is synonymous with the nation itself. The epic is woven...