Beyond Propaganda: Analyzing Cultural Significance and Artistic Individuality in Central Asian Soviet Mosaics

Written by Alena Russell
Edited by Jacob Anthony and Thierry Jasmin

“Art belongs to the people. It must grow deep roots in the very midst of the broad mass of workers. It must be understood and loved by them. It must unite the feelings, thoughts, and will of the masses and inspire them.” - V. I. Lenin 

Figure 1: Luchishkin, Sergey. An Athletes’ Parade at the Dynamo Stadium. Oil on Canvas. 1936-76. Moscow, Russia. 

Public art created in the Soviet Union is frequently overlooked by art historians and omitted from discussions surrounding muralism, primarily due to the fact that much of Soviet art has been written off as propaganda. Art historian Clement Greenberg stated that these pieces could only be seen as “low art,” with no real purpose outside of promoting the socialist ideology (1). In reality, much of the art produced in the Soviet peripheries, particularly in Central Asia, provides insights to the complex and nuanced way the Soviet Union embedded itself in local society. This paper will analyze three Soviet-era mosaics created in Central Asia and explore how they function beyond a source of propaganda. These murals illustrate the artistic capacity of Soviet art and demonstrate how artists used mosaics to celebrate local traditions, explore stylistic choices, and meld the socialist ideology with regional culture. 

In order to fully understand the mosaic art produced in Central Asia during the Soviet era, we must first consider the historical context. The Soviet Union persisted from 1917-1991, and the creation of mosaic murals spanned from the 1930s-1950s, halting while Kruschev was in power, and then continued from the 1960s until the fall of the USSR. Mosaics became the official public art of the Soviet Union in 1918, chosen over painted murals due to their longevity and resistance against the harsh Russian winters (2, 3). These artworks were integrated into the majority of new building projects, which typically had 5% of their budget allotted for “decoration”(4). The building projects occurred as a result of a nationwide push to rebuild cities as socialist utopias, free from older, traditional elements. This development was especially prominent in Muslim-majority regions, where mosques and single-family homes were replaced with socialist architectural designs (5). Soviet officials prioritized public artwork, believing that architecture was a form of social, political, and aesthetic education, and served as “an inspiration, a symbol of finer culture and a promise of a happier and more abundant life to come”(6). This attitude explains why considerable funds were directed towards artistic endeavours, despite poverty persisting throughout the country. 

In 1934, Stalin’s government declared Socialist Realism to be the national art style, primarily as a reaction to the growing avant garde movement (7). Stalin believed in the “visual manifestation of communist policies,” and Socialist Realist art consisted of communist symbols including those of labour, gender equality, and technological advancement (8). All art produced in the Soviet Union had to follow the guidelines of Socialist Realism, which was designed to construct a utopic image of a unified nation, omitting the darker sides of life in the USSR like nuclear sites and labor camps. One such example is Luchishkin's “An Athletes’ Parade at the Dynamo Stadium,” which exemplifies the nationalist sentiment characteristic of the art style (fig. 1). After the death of Stalin in 1953, restrictions on art were eased, but Socialist Realism was still prevalent. With the arrival of Gorbachev and perestroika in the 1980s, artistic policies were relaxed further, eventually resulting in the end of Socialist Realism in 1988 (9).

Although the Central Asian region constituted a significant part of the Soviet Union in terms of area, its social and geographical distance from Moscow led to variance in the implementation of socialist art and policies. Central Asia was subjected to accelerated industrialization, which resulted in reduced development that created a heavy reliance on Moscow for economic support (10). The low levels of development, in addition to the predominantly Muslim heritage of the region, caused Russians to view Central Asia as separate from the West and therefore backwards, creating a center-periphery dynamic within the Soviet Union. This “othering” of Central Asia was further enforced by the fact that Russians were only exposed to the region through Socialist Realist art, which typically featured orientalist depictions of laborers and little else (11). The distance between Moscow and Central Asia unsurprisingly resulted in less surveillance of the area, and allowed for more experimentation with artistic expression; Kazakh art historian Abykayeva-Tiesenhausen describes the region as “a greenhouse for variants in art” (12). It is productive to highlight these nuances in order to demonstrate how Central Asian Soviet art went beyond propaganda to challenge artistic and sociopolitical boundaries. 

The body of literature engaging with the topic of mosaic murals produced in Central Asia is extremely sparse. Abykayeva-Tiesenhausen discusses this scarcity in her book, Central Asia in Art (2016). She notes that the lack of resources dealing with Soviet art is due to the fact that art criticism concerned with Socialist Realism did not gain academic status until after the Cold War (13). However, art produced during the Soviet Union is still regularly excluded from artistic discourse due to the taboos surrounding Soviet art that write it off as propaganda. Academic sources are lacking, and the few authors who venture into the region are primarily interested in oil painting. However, there has been a recent surge of literature that raises awareness about post-Soviet mosaics and advocates for their historical significance and need for restoration, notably the works by scholars Nini Palavandishvili, Joes Segal, and Karolina Kluzewska (14,15,16). The community of scholars who have published works related to the mosaics in the region note how quickly the artworks are vanishing, from a combination of widespread communist iconoclasm and a lack of maintenance and restoration. Schröder discusses one of the leading groups campaigning for mosaic restoration: STAB (School of Theory and Activism), based in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan (17). Kluczewska further underlines the gravity of mosaic restoration in her article concerning murals in Tajikistan, in addition to emphasizing the historical exclusion of Soviet Central Asian art from contemporary discourse (18). She also discusses the lack of mosaic research conducted locally, due to a lack of interest primarily caused by a common sense of disconnect from the Soviet past. Another factor contributing to the absence of local interest is the fact that public art can often blend in with the community landscape and go unnoticed by passerby, especially if it has been there for decades like the mosaics (19). The research and discussion of Soviet mosaics is crucial for preservation advocacy, and it is paramount that the body of literature discussing Central Asian mosaics be widened to preserve the endangered art form.

The Enlik-Kebek mosaic on the outside of the Hotel Almaty in Kazakhstan (fig. 2) was created in 1965 by Moldakhmet Syzdykovich Kenbaev and Nikolai Vladimirovich Tsivchinskiy (20). Both artists were trained at Soviet art institutions, but Kenbaev was ethnically Kazakh and Tsivchinskiy was born in Saint Petersburg. The two artists worked on many monumental mosaics together around Kazakhstan, and were considered pioneers in the region. Kenbaev is survived by his son, who works in Almaty restoring his father’s remaining artworks (21). Typically, the authorship of Soviet mosaics is unknown, and it is rare to have a biographical account of the artist. However, the majority of artists followed similar education trajectories as Kenbaev and Tsivchinskiy, receiving formal training at one of the Soviet Union’s primary art institutes. 

Figure 2: Kenbaev, Moldakhmet Syzdykovich and Nikolai Vladimirovich Tsivchinskiy. Enlik-Kebek Mosaic. 1965. Mosaic tile. Hotel Almaty, Kazakhstan. 

The mosaic depicts a traditional Kazakh tale of two lovers, reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet (22). The piece has remarkable detail, and is made with a color palette of dark blue, soft pastels, and bright oranges and pinks. The work depicts five different scenes from the story: a warrior and princess on horseback, three mysterious looking men, a battle between the warrior and one of the men with the princess fearfully observing, an old man playing an instrument, several men cowering behind a shield, and the warrior defending the princess. The scenes are separated by swirling blue and gold designs, and all of the figures have Eastern features and are wearing traditional Kazakh clothes. There are no ties to the Socialist ideology in this image, which is evident in the hyper-feminine and fragile depiction of the princess, who is saved and then protected by the warrior. This representation stands in sharp contrast to women commonly seen in Socialist Realist art, who are primarily depicted as strong workers who are equal to men, as shown in Mashkov’s “Girl in the Tobacco Plantation” (fig. 3). Additionally, the traditional cultural dress of the figures would have been viewed as backwards and anti-modern through the Socialist lens. Finally, there is a lack of the color red and other iconic Soviet symbols, a tell-tale feature of Socialist Realist art. This mural illustrates the range of Soviet mosaic art, and the forms it can take beyond state propaganda. The Enlik-Kebek mosaic celebrates Kazakhstan’s unique history and culture, and works to preserve and strengthen national identity. Artworks like this are evidence of the artistic freedoms that can be found within the era of Socialist Realism, and underline the significance of further study into this genre of art. Not only does this piece immortalize Kazakh traditions, but it actively defies socialist policies by demonstrating  artistic autonomy in the region. 

Figure 3: Mashkov, Ilya. Girl on the Tobacco Plantations. 1930. Oil on Canvas. Moscow, Russia. 

“The Path of Enlightenment” was created in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan by Satar Aitiev in 1978 (fig. 4), and was at the time considered shocking and controversial due to its complete deviation from the Socialist Realist style. Indeed, “The Path of Enlightenment” is completely void of Soviet ideology, and shows clear experimentation in regards to artistic style. The mosaic is made from smalt, a type of cobalt glass made in Ukraine, and uses primarily blue, yellow, and white, with accents of red and green (23). In the center of the mosaic, a large, ghost-like entity commands the attention of smaller surrounding figures, who are crowded into two groups on either side of the central form. Many are dressed in nondescript clothing, but some are depicted wearing traditional Kyrgz hats. Upon closer inspection, more figures can be observed blending faintly into the background, which takes up the majority of the space. Vivid, swirling washes of color engulf the figures like a thick mist, creating a dreamlike and painterly effect, full of movement and reminiscent of Impressionist styles. 

Figure 4: Aitiev, Satar. The Path of Enlightenment. 1978. Mosaic tile. Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. 

Kyrgz local Shailoo Djekshenbaev recalls the initial reaction to the work: “It was a great event, a shocking event. It was bold, beautiful, new and entirely different from everything else. We all asked each other the question - how was he allowed to do that? How did the Artists' Union accept it?" Within the parameters of Socialist Realism, artistic experimentation as found in Aitiev’s work would have been unacceptable (24). Not only does the mural lack socialist themes, but the hazy, brushstroke-like quality of the piece aligns it with styles and techniques conceived outside of the Soviet Union. This mosaic was likely able to go undetected due to the lack of oversight by officials. Artists were occasionally visited by delegates and given feedback and instructions based on the adherence to Socialist Realism, but this typically did not have much of an effect (25). “The Path of Enlightenment” is clear evidence of a growing artistic culture in the Central Asian region that was not intrinsically tied to propaganda. Mosaics like these illustrate autonomy and creativity among artists, a quality in Central Asian art that is often overlooked due to its Soviet context. 

The printing house mosaic in Dushanbe, Tajikistan (fig. 5) was created in 1983 by Anvarsho Sayfudinov and Jalil Rasulov, two local artists both educated at Soviet art institutions (26). This mural exemplifies the meshing of Tajik and Soviet culture, and demonstrates how artists were able to adhere to the Socialist Realist policies while simultaneously integrating their own artistic choices. Typically, artists would create a blueprint of their mosaic, and submit it to be approved, which gave them flexibility to make alterations and small changes to their designs. This mural is especially interesting, however, because the officials who approved the design were all individuals from Tajikistan who knew the artists personally, and would have likely been lenient about the level of Socialist content (27).

Figure 5: Sayfudinov, Anvarsho and Jalil Rasulov. Printing House Mosaic. 1983. Mosaic tile. Dushanbe, Tajikistan. 

The printing house mosaic has several outwardly socialist elements, but closer inspection reveals integration of Tajik cultural components. The director of the printing house ordered this artwork, requesting the inclusion of a female figure, and for the mosaic to show the building’s function through the power of knowledge. It was common for Central Asian artists to include a woman in their pieces to please the Soviet officials and divert attention from the lack of prominent socialist ideological content (28). The mosaic was created in three panels consisting of red, brown, green, and blue colored tiles, each panel celebrating Soviet achievements related to publishing and knowledge. The left panel depicts the process of bookmaking; it depicts two men working at the machine, and a woman holding a pile of papers. The panel on the right further illustrates the importance of education and literacy; there is a man solving an equation, a professor giving a lecture, and two men and a woman engaging with books. In the center panel, a man and woman stand in the foreground as equals, representing an equal access to knowledge. Above them, a banner of text reads, “A book is your friend in loneliness, a book is the source of knowledge” (29). Additionally, there are trees weaving throughout the work, further symbolizing both knowledge and growth as well as a subtle nod to the life cycle of paper that goes into printing production. 

While the overall content of the piece seemingly aligns with the ideologies of Socialist Realism, there are clear Tajik cultural elements, primarily evident in the depiction of women. Tajik society is predominantly Muslim, and women are typically placed in gendered roles tied to the domestic sphere, which does not align with Soviet ideology. Although there are female figures present, they are not doing equal work, instead shown sitting at a table and holding pamphlets. The attire of the figures further underlines the lack of gender equality present in Muslim culture. The men are depicted in modern soviet clothing, while the women are clad in longer dresses and white headscarves, signaling their Muslim faith. The artists made the choice to show a modern socialist man, but a wise, traditional woman, illustrating the convergence of Tajik and Soviet societies (30). Intriguingly, Moscow officials did not object to the Muslim references in the mosaic, which exhibits the complex manifestations of the Soviet Union in local Central Asian culture, and demonstrates how the two societies were able to coexist with little pushback.

The three mosaics discussed above illustrate the impacts of the cultural and geographic distance between Moscow and the Central Asian region, and act as evidence to support the claim that art produced during the Soviet Union stretches far beyond the classification of propaganda. The Enlik-Kebek mosaic celebrates Kazakh tradition, and allows the culture to exist outside of the Soviet context. “Path of Enlightenment” exemplifies the artistic experimentation that was able to flourish due to the decreased surveillance in the region, and points to a growing artistic culture. Finally, the printing house mosaic highlights the confluence of Soviet and Tajik culture, and demonstrates the nuances and complex manifestations of the socialist ideology in Muslim Central Asian cultures. These murals represent only a small sample of the mosaic art created during the Soviet Union, but provide an insight to the multi-faceted identities of Central Asian nations and their complex contributions to public art . 

Bibliography

Abykayeva-Tiesenhausen, Aliya. Central Asia in Art: From Soviet Orientalism to the New Republics. United Kingdom: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2016. PDF.

Chapple, Amos. “Don't Decommunize This!” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 2018. Retrieved April 14, 2021, from https://www.rferl.org/a/the-women-fighting-to-save-ukraines-soviet-mosaics/29125080.html

Keen, Dennis. “Hotel Almaty Mosaic.” Monumental Almaty. Accessed April 2021. http://www.monumentalalmaty.com/hotel-almaty-mosaic.html 

Keen, Denis. “Kenbaev, Moldakhmet Syzdykyovich.” Monumental Almaty. Accessed April 2021. http://www.monumentalalmaty.com/kenbaev.html 

Kluczewska, Karolina, and Niso Hojieva. “Socialist in Form, ‘National’ in Content? Art and Ideology in Soviet Tajikistan.” Nationalities Papers, 2020, 1–23. doi:10.1017/nps.2020.67.

Mülethaler, Bruno and Jean Thissen. “Smalt.” Studies in Conservation, 1969, 47-61. doi: 10.1179/sic.1969.005

Palavandishvili, Nini and Lena Prents. “Introduction.” In Art for Architecture: Georgia Soviet Modernist Mosaics from 1960-1990, 4-9. Berlin: DOM, 2019. PDF.

Price, Penelope. “Bishkek's Mosaics: Fragmented Dream Project.” Uzbek Journeys, Nov 2014. http://www.uzbekjourneys.com/2014/11/bishkeks-mosaics-fragmented-dream.html 

Schröder, Philipp, and Emil Nasritdinov. “Re/Claiming Bishkek: Contestation and Activism in the City of Two Revolutions.” Central Asian Affairs, 2017, 97-128. https://doi.org/10.5167/uzh-149785

Segal, Joes. Art and Politics: Between Purity and Propaganda. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2016. Accessed April 14, 2021. ProQuest Ebook Central.

Stronski, Paul. Tashkent: Forging a Soviet City, 1930–1966. United States: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2010. PDF.

Vassiliev, Alexei. Central Asia: Political and Economic Challenges in the Post-Soviet Era. United Kingdom: Saqi, 2013. PDF.

Voyce, Arthur. "Soviet Art and Architecture: Recent Developments." The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 303 (1956): 104-15. Accessed April 14, 2021. http://www.jstor.org/stable/1032295.

Walker, Shaun. “Missing murals: the lost Soviet art of the Stans.” The Guardian. The Guardian News & Media, October 2017. 
https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2017/oct/20/missing-murals-disappearing-soviet-art-stans


Endnotes

1. Aliya Abykayeva-Tiesenhausen, Central Asia in Art: From Soviet Orientalism to the New Republics (United Kingdom: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2016), 8.

2. Amos Chapple, “Don't Decommunize This!,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 2018, accessed April 2021, from 

3. Nini Palavandishvili, “Introduction,” in Art for Architecture: Georgia Soviet Modernist Mosaics from 1960-1990 (Berlin: DOM Publishing, 2019), 7.

4. Shaun Walker, “Missing murals: the lost Soviet art of the Stans,” The Guardian, The Guardian News & Media, October 2017,  https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2017/oct/20/missing-murals-disappearing-soviet-art-stans

5. Paul Stronski, Tashkent: Forging a Soviet City, 1930-1966 (United States: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2010), 3.

6. Arthur Voyce, “Soviet Art and Architecture: Recent Developments,” The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 303 (1956): 113, accessed April 14, 2021, http://www.jstor.org/stable/1032295.

7. Karolina Kluczewska, “Socialist in Form, ‘National’ in Content? Art and Ideology in Soviet Tajikistan,” Nationalities Papers, (2020): 20, Accessed April 2021, doi:10.1017/nps.2020.67.

8. Abykayeva-Tiesenhausen, 3.

9. Kluczewska, “Socialist in Form, ‘National’ in Content?,” 5-6.

10. Alexei Vassiliev, Central Asia: Political and Economic Challenges in the Post-Soviet Era (United Kingdom: Saqi, 2013), chapter 1. 

11. Abykayeva-Tiesenhausen, chapter 5.

12. Abykayeva-Tiesenhausen, chapter 5. 

13. Abykayeva-Tiesenhausen, 8. 

14. Palavandishvili, “Introduction.”

15. Joes Segal, Art and Politics: Between Purity and Propaganda (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2016).

16. Kluczewska, “Socialist in Form, ‘National’ in Content?” 

17. Philipp Schröder, “Re/Claiming Bishkek: Contestation and Activism in the City of Two Revolutions,” Central Asian Affairs, (2017): 26, accessed April 2021, https://doi.org/10.5167/uzh-149785.

18. Kluczewska, “Socialist in Form, ‘National’ in Content?”

19. Segal, Art and Politics: Between Purity and Propaganda, 111.

20. Dennis Keen, “Hotel Almaty Mosaic,” Monumental Almaty, accessed April 2021, http://www.monumentalalmaty.com/hotel-almaty-mosaic.html.

21. Dennis Keen, “Kenbaev, Moldakhmet Syzdykyovich,” Monumental Almaty, accessed April 2021, http://www.monumentalalmaty.com/kenbaev.html.

22. Walker, “Missing murals: the lost Soviet art of the Stans.” 

23. Bruno Mülethaler, “Smalt,” Studies in Conservation, (1969): 47, accessed April 2021, doi: 10.1179/sic.1969.005.

24. Penelope Price, “Bishkek's Mosaics: Fragmented Dream Project,” Uzbek Journeys, Nov 2014, http://www.uzbekjourneys.com/2014/11/bishkeks-mosaics-fragmented-dream.html.

25. Palavandishvili, “Introduction,” 1.

26. Kluczewska, “Socialist in Form, ‘National’ in Content?,” 13.

27. Kluczewska, “Socialist in Form, ‘National’ in Content?,” 13.

28. Kluczewska, “Socialist in Form, ‘National’ in Content?,” 13.

29. Kluczewska, “Socialist in Form, ‘National’ in Content?,” 13.

30. Kluczewska, “Socialist in Form, ‘National’ in Content?,” 14.

Previous
Previous

The Piercing Punctum of Radioactive Photographs

Next
Next

Is This What You Want to See?: New Visibility Strategies in Post-Soviet Queer Art