Wandering through Almaty, I could not ignore the prevalence of vibrant painted murals which coat walls. Almaty, located in southern Kazakhstan, near the border with Kyrgyzstan, was the capital of the country from 1929-1997, thus making the city the focus of Soviet presence in Kazakhstan.
The continued creation of public murals today echoes an artistic tradition inherited from the Soviet era, when monumental public art was valued as a means of uniting citizens around shared ideals. Mosaics were chosen by Lenin as the official public art form of the USSR in 1918, as opposed to other forms such as painted murals due to one practical reason: their ability to withstand a harsh Russian winter. Mosaics were durable, low maintenance, and were an effective way of spreading messages. The concept of having art in a public space made it accessible to all, and countered the idea of art as an elite medium. Mosaic murals were created in Almaty from the 1960s to 1980s. Arguably the most prominent contribution was made by Vladimir Tverdokhlebov, a Russian artist who graduated from the Mukhina Institute in Leningrad in 1967 and then moved to Almaty. For the following decade, he worked on mosaics, murals, and stained glass windows around the city, such as the mosaics in the Kazakhstan Academy of Sciences.
Such mosaics are often dismissed as propaganda, which only serves to promote socialist ideology. For example, art historian Clement Greenberg wrote that soviet public art can only be considered as “low art”, bearing no meaning besides promotion of socialist ideology. Instead, these relics of soviet public art convey how the Soviet Union integrated itself into Kazakh society.
Many Soviet-era mosaics scattered around Almaty, or at least the ones which remain, lack attributes of the official artistic style of the USSR – socialist realism -such as the optimistic depiction of Soviet life and workers, and instead portray Kazakh traditions. For example, Hotel Almaty is adorned by a mosaic depicting Enlik-Kebek, a Kazakh folk tale about a pair of lovers from different tribes. . Characters are dressed in traditional Kazakh clothing, and other aspects of Kazakh culture such as archery, horse riding, and playing the dombra are showcased. Nonetheless, the dynamic movement of the figures, bright colours, and stylised faces make the mosaic stylistically Soviet.
Mosaics emphasise Kazakh culture due to the Soviet policy of “Korenizatsiia” (Коренизация), which aimed to foster nationalism in each SSR, and formed part of their nation building initiative. Almaty, being the Soviet capital of the Kazakh SSR and thus a cultural showcase for the republic, was the main city in which Korenizatsiia was implemented. The Soviets often used the capital cities of non-Russian republics to demonstrate the “Friendship of Peoples” policy, and displayed art that was “national in form, socialist in content”. The Soviet authorities encouraged controlled expressions of nationalism to foster loyalty while retaining ideological control.
Soviet public art in Almaty contrasts that of other major cities in Kazakhstan.. The cities of Karaganda and Almaty played greatly different roles during the Soviet era. Karaganda, being a coal mining city, was an industrial centre, and also had a significant Russian population. Thus, its mosaics and public art served as a reminder of socialist unity and labour heroism. Almaty, being the capital, needed to showcase how successfully ethnic republics were integrating into the USSR.
Public Art in Modern Almaty
Since the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, independent Kazakhstan lacks any policy protecting or preserving public monumental art, which has led to the destruction or neglect of many mosaics. In over 80% of cases, even the artist’s identity now remains anonymous.
However, despite the lack of official support for the protection of public art, community efforts to preserve Soviet public art have arisen. For example, Dennis Keen, an American living in Almaty, started the blog Monumental Almaty, which raises awareness about Soviet public artworks around the city.
Furthermore, there is a negative curve in terms of state-funded public art, which contrasts the Soviet policy, whereby new buildings had 5% of the budget allocated for decoration. Soviet authorities placed significant importance on public art, viewing it as a tool for social, political, and aesthetic education. It was intended to inspire the masses, symbolize cultural refinement, and offer a vision of a brighter, more prosperous future. In today’s Almaty, the public art scene is composed of independent, as opposed to state-funded, artists, who create works ranging from celebrations of traditional Kazakh culture to bold political statements.
One of the few artists whose legacy bridges both eras is Vladimir Tverdokhlebov, who created many mosaics in the Kazakh SSR. In 2004 the artist completed the mosaic “The Great Silk Road”, located on the wall of Hotel Almaty, depicting the transition from Silk Road Era yurts to a modern city. The artist lamented how the mosaic as an art form has become “unpopular in Kazakhstan”. Nevertheless, works such as “The Great Silk Road” continue to serve as visual affirmations of national identity.
In 1983, Tverdokhlebov collaborated with other artists to complete a series of mosaics in the foyer of the Kazakhstan Academy of Sciences, honouring Kazakh intellectuals such as Abai, Al-Farabi, Ybyrai Altynsaryn, Shokan Ualikhanov, Mukhtar Auezov, and Kanysh Satpaev. These mosaics, like “The Great Silk Road”, celebrate Kazakh achievements and embolden national pride. However, not all of Tverdokhlebov’s Soviet era works promote Kazakh culture and achievements. In 1984, Tverdokhlebov also worked with other artists to complete the mosaic V.I Lenin, also situated in the Kazakhstan Academy of Sciences. The diversity of Tverdokhlebov’s works reflects the controlled nationalism of art in the Soviet capital.
Nowadays, Almaty has become adorned with painted murals. Media expression in Kazakhstan, ranking 160th in the global press freedom ranking according to Reporters Without Borders, is far from free. Thus, many artists turn to public art as a medium of broadcasting their opinions and raising awareness of important social issues..
Pasha Cas, a prominent street artist, has been creating murals which criticise the former president Nursultan Nazarbayev. Almaty’s authorities have continuously painted over Cas’ murals depicting Nazarbayev in a negative light. For example, a mural of Nazarbayev with the words ‘forever young’, ‘Elbasy’ (leader of the nation), and ‘01’ (his nickname) was painted over by the authorities. Nonetheless, Cas created new murals in the same space, again critical of Nazarbayev.
The trend of using murals to incite political conversations about controversial issues is not confined to Almaty. In the capital, Astana, in 2018 a group of anonymous artists created a mural of a woman in a traditional Kazakh headdress with the words ‘I have a choice’, drawing attention to women’s rights in Kazakhstan. This work was also removed by the authorities. The contrast between the durable Soviet mosaics and the ephemeral painted murals – which authorities paint over – reflects an imbalance of power between Soviet and modern artists. Modern art is easily removed – representing the fleeting dissent it embodies..
The prevalence of public art which commemorates important national historical figures also reflects a trend of national revitalisation and nationalism in the country. Almaty graffitists Yerzhan Tanayev and Ali Zakir, known as Tigrohaud Crew, created a mural depicting Qurmangazy Sagyrbaiuly, a Kazakh composer, instrumentalist, and folk artist. This is just one of many murals commemorating important Kazakh figures, with others showcasing Kasteyev, Konayev, and cosmonaut Aidyn Aimbetov being found in cities across the country.
Almaty’s public art, from Soviet mosaics to modern murals, reflects shifting political ideologies and cultural identities in Kazakhstan. The Soviet legacy of monumental art – once a tool to implement the ‘Friendship of peoples’ – has fragmented into dissonant voices; some praise Kazakh heritage, and others promote political messages. While mosaics withstood harsh winters, modern murals struggle to survive censorship.
Cover image by Joe Walford.