The Abylkhan Kasteyev Museum of Arts in Almaty has opened a new hall dedicated to contemporary art, marking a significant institutional shift. While the exhibition includes key Kazakh artists, the absence of several major figures has sparked heated debates within the domestic art community.

There is change afoot: a new hall of contemporary аrt at the Abylkhan Kasteyev Museum of Arts in Almaty. It is a dedicated new space which previously was used only for temporary shows and this marks a big step for the contemporary arts in Kazakhstan. It has sparked local controversy because while the new space includes works by notable Kazakh artists such as Sergey Maslov(1952-2002), Said Atabekov (b. 1965), Almagul Menlibayeva (b. 1969), Elena and Viktor Vorobyov (both b. 1959), and Rashid Nurekeev (b. 1964), several other major names considered representative of their generation are conspicuous by their absence.

Previously, the turn of the 20th and 21st centuries at the Kasteyev Museum was represented by Soviet-era non-conformism, by artists like Saule Suleimenova, (b. 1970) and Andrey Noda, (b. 1962). These works have now been taken down and replaced by contemporary artists begging the question as to why such important phases in the Kazakh art are seen as mutually exclusive and why they decided not to exhibit both trends and successive generations together. It looks like a case of throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

The new display has become part of a permanent exhibition titled ‘Space. Memory. Progress’ and works will be periodically replaced so the exhibition will evolve over time and the current selection of works is a trial. The selection of works available from the museum depositories has been shaped by institutional strategies which formed after the breakdown of the Soviet Union, as Sanzhar Syrgabaev, exhibition researcher, explained: “Unfortunately, expansion of the collection of the museum stopped numerous times during the 1990s because of a lack of funding. As a result, there are noticeable gaps in contemporary art within our collection, and we intend to address this issue.” Currently, the works on show belong to the artists and are on temporary loan and some of them may eventually be purchased or donated to the museum.

The Tselinny Centre for Contemporary Culture in Almaty has been closed for renovations but is set to reopen in spring this year with what promises to be a more ambitious and active programme of exhibitions and events, and the Almaty Museum of Arts, which has a substantial collection of 20th and 21st century art, is planning to follow in similar fashion. These organizational initiatives at state level may have spurred the Kasteyev Museum on to modernize so as not to fall behind its peers.

There has been a mixed reaction among the domestic art community. Kazakh artist Elena Vorobyeva applauds the change, saying “The exhibition marks a form of state recognition of contemporary art, which was previously seen just as a kind of experiment on the fringes of artistic perception”. Independent art curator Olga Veselova comments: “Expanding the museum's collection to include the present day is important for a comprehensive understanding of Kazakhstani art. This is also significant recognition for artists who emerged at a time when traditional institutions did not perceive contemporary art as art. Over the past three decades, many bright, internationally recognized artists have emerged in Kazakhstan, and their work needs to be studied and preserved.

The new exhibition has shown that the current building and layout of the museum are too limited in their scope. This is a sign that the state needs to create a separate collection of contemporary art.” Independent curator and contemporary art expert Yulia Sorokina criticized what she sees as “the exhibition’s overcrowded display” and the absence of a key figure like Rustam Khalfin (1949-2008), one of Kazakhstan’s contemporary art pioneers, whose omission “undermines any comprehensive discussion of the country’s actual art scene”.

Other important artists like Yerbossyn Meldibekov (b. 1964), Askhat Akhmedyarov (b. 1965), and Saule Suleimenova are also missing from the museum´s new roster. Although these artists are known for their critical engagement with Kazakhstan’s political situation, their omission may be less to do with museum censorship and more a question of the terms of cooperation offered to the artists. It seems some refused to lend their works without guarantees around compensation or insurance. One notable figure in the Kazakh art world who preferred to remain anonymous, suggested that some refusals on the part of the artists could be a show of discontent over the museum’s leadership, which some see as being in a deep crisis. The fact also remains that political themes in the exhibition, if present at all, are subtle.

The only openly provocative work on display is Rashid Nurekeev’s installation ‘The Mad Love of a Fox and a Train Car’ which he made in 2021 dedicated to Stockholm Syndrome and including the relationship between Kazakh society and its government. Yet this work is also open to much broader interpretations such as humanity's idolization of technology, which has led to nuclear bombs and risky AI developments, or it can be seen as the attempt to create a kind of humanistic art to help us survive in our rationalized contemporary societies. The installation features large scale toy train carriages with worn plush foxes clinging to them, juxtaposing a tragic message with a playfully naïve aesthetic.

Sergey Maslov’s reconstructed installation ´Baikonur-2´of 2002 plays with mythology, suggesting that Kazakhs are descendants of aliens from Sirius and the ancestors of all humanity. As evidence, the viewer is presented with a yurt assembled in the shape of a rocket similar to the ships on which the Kazakhs supposedly once flew to Earth and a slideshow capturing the life of Kazakhs in space. His work humorously critiques the kind of top-down mythmaking about Kazakh identity which was prevalent at the turn of the millennium.

Elena and Viktor Vorobyev’s photographic triptych ‘Aligning the Horizon’ (2010) critically examines Soviet attempts to rationally reshape nature, which often had disastrous consequences for Kazakhstan. To express the concept, an elegant, concise, and locally rooted solution has been found: a planetary expanse of steppe, two hands tensed in an act of willpower, and a rope stretched between them along the horizon line. However the horizon resists being straightened.

The exhibition includes numerous powerful works by female Kazakh artists. The installation ‘Ordinary Star, Neutron Star, Black Hole’ (2021) by Madina Zholdybek (b. 1991) consists of three carpets shaped like female breasts, symbolizing their transformation during breastfeeding. It explores bodily acceptance and the experience of motherhood as a cycle of death and rebirth. ´Soft Thorn´ by Moldir Karubaykyzy (b. 1988) is a handmade quilt depicting a gray figure with a large blackthorn inside, representing women's fears about domestic violence. The quilt also alludes to curtains hiding the issue and the isolation women often experience within traditional families.

Created last year, ‘Balkhash Forum. Cybertextile’ by Almagul Menlibayeva’s ‘Balkhash Forum. Cybertextile’ addresses the environmental crisis in the Balkhash-Alakol basin. Combining embroidery with post-digital printing, she creates a striking collage depicting an apocalyptic future where the pursuit of technological progress has tragically destroyed organic life. Unfortunately inadequate lighting in the exhibition space renders Menlibayeva´s video piece ‘Gulbibi Balkhash. Mother Water’ (2024), which blends post-glossy and cyberpunk aesthetics, difficult to appreciate. And a small collage of photos from Said Atabekov's large-scale project about kokpar, a traditional Kazakh sport involving horse-riding, also looks unexpressive in this hall.

The biggest flaw of the exhibition is its lack of coherence. About a quarter of the space is taken up by Kazakh paintings and sculptures inspired by Soviet nonconformist traditions in the visual arts. Works by Bakhyt Bapishev (1958–2019), Moldakul Narymbetov (1948–2012) and Smail Bayaliev (b. 1952) are excellent paintings that would enrich any museum collection, but they do not fit comfortably with the rest of the exhibition and for such a small display that already lacks key contemporary Kazakh artists, including unrelated works which lack relevancy today seems like a misstep. Yet inspite of these shortcomings, the Kasteyev Museum’s embrace of contemporary art is a crucial step. Hopefully, future exhibitions will be more thoughtfully curated.