December 1, 2022
Editorial Note
Stedelijk researcher Robbie Schweiger embarked on a research trip to deepen his understanding of contemporary art practices in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Uzbekistan. He visited the capitals of these countries—Almaty, Bishkek, and Tashkent—and the capital of Uzbekistan’s autonomous republic of Karakalpakstan, Nukus. Over the next few weeks, we will share snippets of his travels here on Stedelijk Studies. Read more on the Lines of Sight project page.
“Kazakhs didn’t fall from the sky”
— Alan Medoyev
I started my travels in “Apple mountain” (Almatau—Almaty), or “Father of apples” (Alma-Ata), the largest city and former capital (1929–97) of Kazakhstan.[1] The first days revolved around apples, as I was invited as a speaker to ALMA (Apple), a scientific symposium on contemporary art and natural heritage, at the Caspian University in Almaty.
German botanist Johann August Carl Sievers, member of the Russian Imperial Academy of Sciences, set out on an expedition to Central Asia at the end of the eighteenth century and “discovered” forests of “wild” apple trees. This six-thousand-year-old ancestor of domesticated apples, which has carried his surname ever since, can still be found in the mountains of Almaty but is faced with extinction. The symposium organized by art historian and PhD candidate Janna Mambetova explored ways of “safeguarding Sievers apple trees through artistic action,” and was accompanied by an exhibition at the A. Kasteyev State Museum of the Arts with works by Russian artist Olga Kisseleva, curated by Ekaterina Reznikova.
In her work, Kisseleva tackles ecological problems through innovative technology and, among other things, genetic modification. At the opening of the exhibition a young Kazakh journalist pushed a microphone under my nose and asked: “what do you think of this white Russian woman coming here to try to save our apples?” The question caught me off guard and stayed in my head, not in the least because of me being a white Dutch man participating in this project.
The next day I joined a roundtable discussion about the project and repeated the journalist’s question. It created an uncomfortable atmosphere, but the conversation was slowly picked up. We discussed alternatives to saving and solving, like slowing down, averting action, standing still, grieving, and seeing and possibly trying to understand what had led up to the current situation. A chain of colonial relationships became clear: scientific expeditions in the region, Russian imperial occupation since the mid-nineteenth century, Soviet modernity, ecological catastrophes, capitalism (after independence), and finally something like a saviour complex informed by euro- and/or anthropo-centrism.
These first few days were helpful to critically evaluate my own position as a representative of a Western art institution. According to the NWO grant funding my research, it should be relevant to the museum and have societal and scientific impact (in the Netherlands). This, however, bypassed the possible objectives and needs of the people who are part of the field of research, or are subject to study themselves. The awareness of certain fixed-looking directions, a lack of reciprocity, and asymmetrical power relations would become a recurring topic in the conversations that followed.
01 – Flyer for scientific symposium ALMA, November 4, 2021. 02 – Painting by Sergey Maslov in the apartment of art historian Valeriya Ibrayeva. 03 – Studio visit with artist Rashid Nurekeev. 04 – Studio visit with artist Nurbol Nurakhmet at collective MATA. 05 – Studio visit with artist Yerbossyn Meldibekov. 06 – Early twentieth-century felt rug with Kazakh ornaments at Kasteyev State Museum of the Arts. The pattern is mirrored so that neither black nor white prevail. 07 – Studio visit with artist Saule Suleimenova. 08 – Studio visit with artist Saule Suleimenova. Curator Vlad Sludskiy holding Suleimenova’s work. 09 – Studio visit with artist Askhat Akhmedyarov. 10 – Installation view of Dilyara Kaipova’s personal exhibition 20-21 at Aspan Gallery. 11 – Studio visit with artist Georgy Tryakin-Bukharov. 12 – Studio visit with artist Georgy Tryakin-Bukharov. 13 – Studio visit with artist Georgy Tryakin-Bukharov. 14 – Protests in Almaty in January and February 2022. Via the Instagram account of artist Medina Bazarğali. Images 01 – 13 – © Robbie Schweiger.
How does one subvert and possibly reverse these lines of sight and asymmetrical positions? This question led to heated discussions about decolonization with artists and activists Suinbike Suleimenova and Àigerim Ospan, and curator and activist Aigerim Kapar, during a snowy mountain hike. Kapar told me: “Your post-Soviet fascination is my reality.” For Kapar, there is no need for reflexiveness and reversing directions and positions, at least not from my side as an outsider. Her focus is solely directed towards local communities and contexts, and a Western audience or recognition didn’t seem any of her concern.
Where Kapar raises awareness for local societal and ecological issues and aims at local community engagement in her projects, there were also conversations about connecting to a (more) global art world. Art historian Valeriya Ibrayeva explained how Kazakh artists (used to) look at what was happening in the arts in the West via the Soviet Union/Russia, consequently creating a diffuse reflection. But what if these directions of looking are freed from hierarchy and/or reversed? What happens when one looks from the West at Russia through the scope of Central Asia? She also stressed the importance of a coordinated and cooperative institutionalization of the art history of Central Asia, by local and international researchers, as much work still has to be done (finding out about/opening up collections, documenting, archiving etc.). She herself very recently uncovered a considerable amount of works by artist Sergey Kalmykov (1891–1967) under a literal pile of dust at the attic of the national theater, for example.
In the past few years institutionalization has gradually picked up its pace in Almaty. New privately funded initiatives like Tselinny, a center for contemporary culture, and the yet to be built Almaty Museum of Arts, connect to local and international art communities and aim at becoming accessible knowledge centers for Central Asian contemporary art. A few days before my arrival, another initiative was presented to the public: the Khalfin Foundation. Its mission: preserving, studying, and promoting the legacy of artist Rustam Khalfin (1949–2008). Khalfin is considered the founding father of contemporary art in the region. He was taught by artist Vladimir Sterligov (1904–1973), one of the last pupils of Kazimir Malevich (1878–1935),[2] and was at the forefront of a new wave of Central Asian art production, an underground parallel culture that broke away from the officially sanctioned styles and subjects of art in Soviet Central Asia. His presence and importance was felt through all the personal memories shared with me, of him and of his partner in work and life, Lidiya Blinova (1948–1996).
Art historian Nazipa Ezhenova was especially close to Khalfin and Blinova, as she took care of Blinova on her sickbed in the mid-1990s. I spent an afternoon with Ezhenova and was overwhelmed by the amount of knowledge she shared. We mainly talked about Khalfin’s development as an artist. Initially working his way through twentieth-century modernism and postmodernism, he came into contact with Soviet geologist and archaeologist Alan Medoyev in the 1980s. According to Medoyev, “Kazakhs didn’t fall from the sky,” and by studying and excavating local historical material cultures he inspired his followers to explore their identity and relationship with their own locality. According to Ezhenova, it was with the introduction of Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari’s Nomadology: The War Machine (1986), that Khalfin really turned towards “himself” and the major theme in the rest of his work: nomadism.
Informed by ideas of Eurasianism by historian, ethnologist, and anthropologist Lev Gumilev, thoughts on geology by physical geographer Arseny Shnitnikov, studies on nomadic aesthetics, ideas of “embodiedness” as explored by philosopher Valery Podoroga, in Deleuze and Guattari’s nomadology, and in Medoyev’s practice, Khalfin set out on an exploration of nomadic consciousness. With his art practice of “close viewing” and rhizomatic relationships between bodies and landscapes, rooted in nomadic aesthetics and use of materials, he searched for ways of national self-identification, while, at the same time looking for a strategy of “entering a larger artistic world looking for distinctions rather than similarities”.[3]
The latter happened on a modest scale; Khalfin and some other Kazakh artists have reached beyond the border of their country. However, one could ask if the focus is not too much on distinctions, with the risk of it maintaining and confirming orientalist positions, or what artist Yerbossyn Meldibekov calls “the demand for “ethnodesign”‘. How does one find a balance between working from/with a local context and connecting with international audiences? And what role does self-exotification play in this?
These questions echo an ongoing succession of colonial/asymmetric power relations that became apparent from the very first day in Almaty, with a close viewing of the Sievers apple. Maybe not surprisingly, the Sievers apple was reclaimed by protesters as one of the main symbols of the bloody demonstrations in Almaty in January 2022.
Because of its limited length, this travelogue only covers part of the many encounters during my stay in Almaty. Here I will try to be complete in thanking Askhat Akhmediarov, Nurtaza Baitenov, Marat Dilman, Nazipa Ezhenova, Valeriya Ibrayeva, Asel Kadyrkhanova, Meruyert Kaliyeva, Aigerim Kapar, Ruslan Khalfin, Alexandra Kim, Dastan Kozhakhmetov, Janna Mambetova, MATA collective (Leonid Khan, Nurbol Nurakhmet, Dilda Ramazan, Janel Shakhan, Roman Zakharov), Yerbossyn Meldibekov, Rashid Nurekeev, Jama Nurkalieva, Àigerim Ospan, Ekaterina Reznikova, Ivan Ryachkov, Vlad Sludskiy, Yuliya Sorokina, Janna Spooner, Saule Suleimenova, Suinbike Suleimenova, Georgy Tryakin-Bukharov, Alexander Ugay, Elena & Viktor Vorobyev, and Aruzhan Zhumabek for taking the time to meet me and share their knowledge.
About the Author
Art historian and scholar in Russian and Eurasian studies Robbie Schweiger is a member of the research staff at the Stedelijk Museum. In 2021 he was awarded with a museum grant from the Dutch Research Council (NWO) to continue his research on contemporary art practices in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Uzbekistan. He visited the capitals of these countries—Almaty, Bishkek, and Tashkent—and the capital of Uzbekistan’s autonomous republic of Karakalpakstan, Nukus. Over the course of 2022 he shares his encounters and findings in four travelogues (one per city) on the Stedelijk Studies website.
[1] In 1997 Astana became the capital, partly because of its central location in the country.
[2] The connection with the Russian historical avant-garde is very much present in Central Asian art communities. Since the early Soviet Union Central Asia has been a destination of escape, evacuation, and deportation for many artists, filmmakers, writers, philosophers. and scientists.
[3] Khalfin quoted in Valeriya Ibrayeva, “Rustam Khalfin’s Art”, in Rustam Khalfin: Seeing Through the Artist’s Hand (London: White Space Gallery, 2007), 12.
