TCA Interviews - The Times Of Central Asia

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TCA Interviews

Life After Relocation: Kazakhstani Inna Baitukenova on the U.S., Blogging, and Building a Business

Kazakh producer and screenwriter Inna Baitukenova, known for projects such as Satash, the documentary Oleg: The Story of Oleg Vidov, and the television series Ana Zhuregi and Taitalas, has opened a new chapter in her professional life since relocating to the U.S. A lawyer by education, she now works as a blogger and is developing her own beauty business in the American market. She spoke with The Times of Central Asia about adapting to life abroad, navigating the U.S. blogging scene, and the challenges and rewards of launching a business as a Kazakhstani immigrant. TCA: Inna, how long have you been living in the U.S.? Inna: My husband and I first came here as tourists in 2018. During that trip, my husband, journalist and film director Tolegen Baitukenov, met an American producer interested in making a documentary exploring potential familial ties between Native Americans and Kazakhs. He signed a contract, and we returned to Kazakhstan. In 2019, he presented the project at the Kazakh pavilion at the Cannes Film Festival. Interest was high, so we decided to change our status from tourists to working residents. We officially moved to the U.S. in 2019. We've now been living here for seven years. TCA: Did you and your husband come on talent visas? Inna: Yes. Initially, we came without our children, just to see how it felt. We liked it, returned home, and began applying for work visas. It wasn’t easy; we even had to obtain approval from the Directors Guild of America. TCA: How long did it take you to adapt? When did you begin to feel at home? Inna: I think we’re still adapting. But the first time I really felt at home was in 2022, after moving from Los Angeles to Orange County. It's a suburb about 90 minutes from LA. I was driving around, and suddenly everything felt familiar: the streets, the houses. That’s when I realized I felt a sense of home. The early days were very tough, but day by day, it got easier. We got used to the environment, improved our English, and started understanding how daily life works here, from utility payments to taxes. At first, we were converting all prices into tenge. When Tolegen started his company in 2019, everything was a challenge; there wasn’t even ChatGPT back then to ask questions. We were googling everything: how to get a license, register a business, and secure a trade name. When I started my own beauty studio in May 2025, I already knew how to rent an office and obtain all the necessary permits. TCA: You seem to have found your footing once you landed a good blogging contract. You now work with major brands, right? Inna: Yes, but blogging wasn't my goal. It happened by accident. I used to keep an Instagram account as a hobby back in Kazakhstan and never thought of it as a platform for making money. But I’ve always loved cosmetology and beauty. One day, I began posting about...

B5+1

What the U.S. Really Wants in Central Asia: Behind the B5+1 Forums

The B5+1 business forum continued in Kyrgyzstan’s capital on February 5, as government officials, regional business leaders, and a sizable U.S. delegation met to discuss trade, investment, and regulatory barriers shaping economic ties between Central Asia and the United States. As Washington signals a more pragmatic, commercially driven approach to the region, questions persist over why U.S. investment has lagged behind political engagement and which markets are truly seen as priorities. The Times of Central Asia spoke with Dmitry Orlov, director of the Strategy: East–West analytical center, about the structural obstacles deterring American capital, the shift in U.S. policy thinking, and how Central Asian states are positioned within Washington’s evolving economic calculus. TCA: What serious U.S. capital investments in Central Asia can we talk about today? ORLOV: It is important to understand the main point. Talk of large investments, the arrival of American business, and long-term economic cooperation only makes sense in one case: if the U.S. repeals the Jackson-Vanik amendment, which was adopted back in the 1970s and extended to all former Soviet republics after the collapse of the USSR. Today, it remains a formal and, in many ways, psychological obstacle to a fully-fledged business partnership. At the same time, it is necessary to establish contacts at a business level right now. This is because if the amendment is repealed - and such statements are regularly heard in Washington - it is difficult to predict which countries in the region will receive investment flows and in what volumes. Recent international forums, including Davos, have shown that Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan are of the greatest interest to the U.S. in Central Asia. Their economies are developing more dynamically, and they can offer large-scale projects and a clear export base. The other countries in the region, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Turkmenistan, are still perceived by investors as lower priorities. TCA: Previously, the U.S. actively promoted a political agenda in the region, including human rights and freedom of speech. Now these are rarely mentioned. Why do you think this is the case? ORLOV: The approach has become more pragmatic. The history of U.S. foreign policy shows that strategic and economic interests have always taken precedence. If a territory is attractive in terms of resources or transit routes, a format for cooperation will be found. In Europe, relatively speaking, the rule of law prevails. In Asia, the situation is different, and the Americans understand this perfectly well. Issues of ideology and human rights can move to the background if economic expediency comes first. This is especially true in Central Asia, where many issues are resolved through personal agreements and informal connections. Washington understands this. TCA: What exactly can Central Asia offer the U.S.? ORLOV: In terms of individual countries, Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan are again in the lead. They offer oil, gas, and, no less importantly, control over transit routes. There is currently a lot of discussion about rare earths and critical minerals, but their development is always long and expensive. As a result, interest in...

Nyshanbek Zhubanaev

Kazakhstan-Based Actor Nyshanbek Zhubanaev on His Journey, Faith, and the Future of Cinema

Nyshanbek Zhubanaev is a professional actor, a graduate of the T.K. Zhurgenov Kazakh National Academy of Arts, and a rising star of series such as Sheker, 1286, and Munai. His path into acting, however, did not begin with red carpets or casting calls, but at a phosphorus plant. Taking a leap of faith to escape a life he describes as scripted by others, Zhubanaev pursued his childhood dream with persistence and conviction. In an interview with The Times of Central Asia, he reflects on his first steps in cinema, the role of faith, inner conflict, and why, for him, humanity matters more than talent. TCA: Your popularity came with the web series Sheker 2, 1286, and Munai. Two of them are set in the 1990s. Why do you think this decade continues to fascinate directors? Zhubanaev: It was a time of contrasts and complexity. When people say Munai romanticizes crime, I feel they’ve missed the point. It’s not about crime, it’s about the clash of personalities and how the oil business emerged in our country. The 90s serve as a backdrop. And in cinema, atmosphere is half the battle. As an actor, I want to be part of projects where that atmosphere is palpable. Whether it’s the 90s or another era doesn't matter. What matters is telling strong, vivid stories. TCA: What themes do you feel are missing in Kazakh cinema today? Zhubanaev: Our cinema is still developing, and there’s so much left to explore. People often say we lack films about love and relationships. We do have them, but not the kind you want to talk about seriously. And love is one of the hardest topics to portray, it leaves you no room to hide behind genre, action, or style. It demands talent. I read a lot, and I’m constantly amazed by the richness of Kazakh literature and history, and how little of it we bring to the screen. Take Mukhtar Auezov’s Karash Okigas, it’s a ready-made screenplay. During Soviet times, Kyrgyz director Bolotbek Shamshiyev adapted it, but today it deserves a modern retelling. TCA: You often cite literature as a source of cinematic inspiration. Zhubanaev: Absolutely. Look at Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front. Its recent film adaptation won an Oscar, though I found the film debatable. We have our own counterpart, Kazakh Soldier by Gabit Musrepov. Why not adapt that with a modern cinematic language? I also love the works of Beimbet Mailin. He’s an incredibly cinematic writer who remains relevant today. His Shuganyn Belgisi, written nearly a century ago, still speaks to issues like equality and the role of women in traditional society. As far as I know, Akan Satayev is currently preparing a film adaptation of Mailin’s Kulpash, the story of a woman who takes a desperate step to save her family during a famine. It’s powerful, dramatic material. The problem isn’t a lack of themes, it’s about who tells the story and how. You can create a visually perfect film and still fail...

Kazakh Art

Beyond the Yurt: Rethinking Nomadism in Kazakh Contemporary Art

At a moment when Kazakhstan is building new cultural institutions and asking bigger questions about what contemporary art should do, one curator has been quietly learning how power, taste, and narrative are shaped inside major museums. Akmaral Kulbatyrova, the first representative of Kazakhstan to receive the U.S.-based ArtTable Fellowship, spent 2025 working in the Exhibitions and Curatorial Projects Department at The Bass Museum of Art in Miami Beach, gaining rare inside access to how global exhibitions are conceived and positioned. Her work sits at the intersection of institutional practice and cultural repair, focused on reframing nomadic culture, Central Asian heritage, and Kazakh craft not as static tradition but as a current language. Akmaral’s experience links ambition and execution, showing how local histories can enter international spaces without being flattened. In this interview with The Times of Central Asia, we asked her what comes next. TCA: Nomadic imagery has become central to Kazakhstan’s national identity since independence. How are contemporary artists reshaping these symbols, and why does that matter for how the country sees itself today? AK: Kazakh contemporary artists briefly challenged Kazakh art in early avant-garde experiments in the 1960s. However, it stopped because of the huge presence of Socialist Realism, which was one of the movements where symbols like horses and yurts prevailed. Most of the contemporary artists reshape not the symbols; they reimagine nomadic culture, contextualizing pre-Soviet culture through researching how it changed over time. Many artists look back to pre-Soviet nomadic practices to explore how these traditions were disrupted by colonial and Soviet policies, yet continue to influence Kazakh identity today. By using installation, performance, and video, they move beyond decoration and folklore to show nomadism as a living culture rather than a museum image or symbols. This matters because it helps Kazakhstan see itself not through simplified national symbols, but as a society shaped by change, cultural mixing, and an ongoing negotiation between past and present. [caption id="attachment_42899" align="aligncenter" width="1536"] Qyz Zhibek, designed by Nikolai Vladimirovich Tsivchinsky and Moldakhmet Syzdykovich Kenbaev, 1971; image: TCA[/caption] TCA: Nomadism now circulates widely in pop culture, often detached from its historical meaning. Why does contemporary art provide a more critical way to examine what nomadic identity represents? AK: It’s typical that symbolic images prevail in pop culture, especially for countries that have not experienced a long artistic tradition. It is one of the ways to be acknowledged by the privileged cultures through the symbols that are easy to recognize and quickly signal national identity. In Kazakhstan, these images became important after independence, as they cover the main question of cultural uniqueness after colonial influence. Contemporary art takes slower and more contextual approaches rather than easy recognition. That’s why most modern scholars criticize symbolic language and would like to see art that explores unresolved histories and how nations were challenged or used their experience to construct their identity. [caption id="attachment_42900" align="aligncenter" width="750"] Anvar Musrepov, IKEA KZ; image courtesy of the Aspan Gallery[/caption] TCA: Many artists use nomadic motifs with irony rather...

TCA Interviews

Attempting to Build a Litter-Free Kazakhstan: An Interview with Ecologist Kamila Akimbekova

Ten years ago, waste recycling in Almaty was largely the domain of individual enthusiasts. Today, environmental campaigns draw thousands, and conversations about responsible consumption have become part of daily life for many city residents. One of the pioneers of this movement is Kamila Akimbekova, an eco-influencer and co-organizer of environmental initiatives. In an interview with The Times of Central Asia, she reflects on the evolution of Almaty’s eco-community, the principles behind the zero waste concept, and how small, consistent changes can reshape a city. TCA: Kamila, you had a successful career in banking. What prompted your transition to environmental activism? Kamila: I think my interests evolved. People often think recycling is a new trend, but it actually existed in the USSR: students collected waste paper, and people returned glass for reuse. It was an effective circular economy. When I became a mother for the second time, I began thinking more deeply about my impact on the world. I started researching whether Almaty had recycling facilities. At the time, information was scarce, and it wasn’t easy to locate collection points, but I didn’t give up. TCA: Was access to information more limited 10-15 years ago? Kamila: Absolutely. Social media was less developed, and online information was often outdated or unreliable. I started looking for people who shared my values and eventually connected with Almaty’s early eco-activists. They were scattered individuals with a shared desire for change. Over time, we formed a real community, launched joint projects, and I began sharing what I learned on my blog. That’s how I transitioned to eco-influencing. Today, I have around 30,000 Instagram followers, an engaged audience concerned about the environment. TCA: Is the eco-community large now? Kamila: It’s grown significantly, especially in Almaty, though we’re also connected with activists across Kazakhstan. Participation has multiplied. Our early events drew 20-50 people. Now we see around 2,000. There’s strong interest from students and school-children, I lecture regularly and see growing volunteerism. At our last campaign, electronic sensors showed that 1,900 people attended. TCA: Is it true that women form the core of the eco-community? Kamila: Yes, that’s backed by studies. Women tend to be more environmentally conscious, likely due to traditional roles as caretakers of the home and future generations. TCA: Today, people can recycle much more than just paper, glass, and plastic. How did that expansion come about? Kamila: I wanted a convenient way to dispose of multiple waste types, old medicines, unused items, plastics, metals, e-waste, etc. In 2019, we invited companies like Rocket Plastic and an e-waste recycler to set up at our events. We also partnered with the Almaty Pop-Up Store and expanded through collaborations with the Darmarka project and the Recycle Birge team. TCA: I was surprised to learn you accept unusual items, used cooking oil, expired candy, even food scraps for farmers. Kamila: We follow the zero waste concept, which aims to reduce waste to zero. Many newcomers think sorting is the most important part, but recycling is actually the last...

TCA Interviews

TCA Interview: Musician Merey Otan on the Reinvention of Kazakh Musical Instruments

Until recently, Kazakh national instruments were largely associated with school concerts, folk ensembles, and official ceremonies. The dombra (a long-necked, two-stringed plucked instrument), kobyz (a bowed string instrument with two horsehair strings), and sybyzgy (a wooden end-blown flute traditionally made from apricot wood) seemed to occupy a separate cultural space: symbolically important, yet detached from everyday life. “Before, the dombra was for me only part of school concerts,” recalls Sanzhar Uvashev, 24, a sales specialist from Almaty. “It was brought out on holidays, people dressed in national costumes, played a couple of obligatory songs, and that was it. I never thought this instrument could sound different, or be part of contemporary music.” Today, that distance is steadily narrowing. The sound of the dombra is increasingly featured in contemporary original music, electronic compositions, film scores, and social media. Young musicians are not abandoning tradition, but they are no longer treating it as something frozen in time. To understand how this rethinking is taking place, and why tradition need not remain 'untouched', The Times of Central Asia spoke with Merey Otan, a researcher and musician who works with Kazakh instruments in a modern cultural context. ТCA: Merey, how did your study of national instruments begin? Was it a deliberate decision? MO: It started during my master’s studies, when I was writing a thesis on contemporary music in Kazakhstan. As part of that research, I interviewed the ethno-rock band Aldaspan and kobyz player Almat Saizhan. I was especially interested in how the dombra and kobyz were being transformed and modernized and eventually devoted a whole chapter of my work to this topic. So yes, it was a conscious choice. TCA: People often argue that tradition should be preserved in its original form. What’s your take on that? MO: I’ve heard that view often, especially from traditional musicians. Some believe, for example, that an electronic dombra desecrates the instrument. Given the sacred meaning of the dombra and kobyz, I understand that stance. In sociology, these people are sometimes called purists. But I disagree. The world is changing, and some traditions from the nomadic era have lost their relevance or even become barriers. I believe traditions can, and sometimes should, evolve. If modifying an instrument helps engage younger generations, why not? TCA: Where do you personally draw the line between respect for heritage and experimentation? MO: I see nothing wrong with experimentation. On the contrary, bands like Steppe Sons show deep respect for heritage. Their members have formal musical education and a strong grounding in tradition. However, it's important to consider the concept of cultural appropriation from postcolonial theory. This occurs when privileged groups use the culture of marginalized communities for personal gain. In music, this might look like a Western artist profiting from Kazakh instruments without acknowledging Kazakh musicians. That, in my view, is disrespectful. TCA: Is there still criticism about the “incorrect” use of traditional instruments? MO: Yes, certainly. When Aldaspan introduced the electronic dombra, public figures like Bekbolat Tleukhan were highly critical....