Image courtesy of Halina Kliem
In Kazakhstan contemporary art is still a relatively new phenomenon, yet its cultural community has been eagerly waiting for a publication dedicated to its art. This is where Aluan came in – the former Soviet republic’s first art magazine. Published in three languages, the magazine’s first issue pays tribute to the country’s art history while working as a gallery on paper showcasing its flourishing art scene. Sleek spoke to the editor-in-chief Gaisha Madanova and guest curator Thibaut de Ruyter about holding exhibitions on printed matter and talking about history without resorting to clichés.
Sleek: I’ve noticed you used shiny paper and a glossy cover for the magazine.
Madanova: On the surface, yes. We wanted to make it glossy, like a classic magazine. It’s something different from what is already available in Kazakhstan, where there are no such publications.
Aluan is Kazakhstan’s first art magazine. How was it received?
Madanova: The contemporary art scene was waiting for something like this. People from all over Kazakhstan are asking where they can get their own copy.
De Ruyter: The release took place at the Kasteev Art Museum’s auditorium, named after the first Abylkhan Kasteev, one of the first artists from Kazakhstan as well as one of our first issue’s featured artists. Around 200 people were in attendance, each with a connection in the local art scene.
Madanova: Yes, it was a cultural audience. But people outside of the art scene also came out of curiosity. I was surprised to see people from different fields.
How did you come up with the idea to publish an art magazine?
Madanova: I was traveling a lot, seeing art magazines everywhere and asking myself, “Why doesn’t this exist in Kazakhstan?” We have money, we have an art scene – it’s possible to do. So I met with the director of the Goethe-Institute in Kazakhstan, Barbara von Münchhausen, and told her my idea. She was highly motivated and gave her full support.
Making an art magazine is difficult when there aren’t many art galleries around. For example, you can’t publish exhibition reviews.
Madanova: We have galleries, but they are more like souvenir shops.
De Ruyter: And they are all located in shopping malls.
Madanova: Yes, it’s a touristy thing. We only have one gallery, Tengri Umai, which focuses explicitly on contemporary art. But at the moment new spots are opening up. So I conceived the magazine as an “exhibition on paper,” because I also wanted to talk about the lack of institutions. We don’t have a cultural infrastructure in Kazakhstan. We don’t have a museum of contemporary art.
Artists in Kazakhstan have often asked me, ‘Are we doing something good?’ In reality, they mean, ‘Is our art valuable in your world?’ I didn’t want to approach them with a colonial attitude and say, ‘Well, no, this doesn’t fit into the history of 20th century western Europe.’
Image courtesy of Halina Kliem
Art by Saule Dyussenbina, image courtesy of Halina Kliem
So how does an exhibition on paper work?
Madanova: You pay the same entrance price as in a museum, but since you own it, there are no time restrictions and you can share it with friends. It’s important because there are not many exhibitions coming to Almaty from abroad. It’s just local. We want to spread the knowledge of what contemporary art is about. The magazine is educational, and it’s an exhibition where art doesn’t have to be adapted to an existing space. However, I still hope a contemporary art space will be built soon.
De Ruyter: Instead of chapters, the magazine consists of rooms. The set-up is analogical to a real museum, where captions are found on labels, a wall text and a spatialised view plastered on the wall. Readers are required to find the caption like in a real exhibition. And the accompanying text reads like a guided tour.
How did you become Aluan’s first curator, Thibaut?
De Ruyter: I had a curatorial grant from the Goethe-Institute for central Asia. Once in Kazakhstan, the director was a matchmaker. She knew Gaisha had this idea, how her parents are artists and she grew up around the local art scene. We spent three weeks together in Kazakhstan. There, I met 40 to 50 artists and we decided to work on the magazine project together.
Is contemporary art something new in Kazakhstan?
De Ruyter: Yes. Kazakhstan had a very nomadic culture until the mid 19th Century, so art traditionally focused on jewels, carpets and traditional clothes.
Madanova: Our roots and our country’s background centred on manual work – applied arts.
Is this why the exhibition on paper starts in the 1920s, with the artist Abylkan Kasteev?
De Ruyter: The presence of Kasteev in the magazine is a bit of a provocation, as if you would start an exhibition about the Netherlands with Van Gogh. Kasteev was the first visual artist that we, as westerners, understand it. In other words, he was painting on canvas. They even named the national museum after him. As I explored the museum and entered the room dedicated to his works, I had this “wow” feeling. His paintings depict the Soviet Union, industrialization, the education by Russian people, folklore dancing – everything is brought together in a very eclectic and naive way. It’s ethnological and it’s highly political – Kasteev believed in the Soviet Union.
How does this relate to your exhibition’s title: “(Art) Upside Down”?
De Ruyter: When dealing with central Asia, it is important to let go of your historical knowledge and criteria. Artists in Kazakhstan have often asked me, “Are we doing something good?” In reality, they mean, “Is our art valuable in your world?” I didn’t want to approach them with a colonial attitude and say, “Well, no, this doesn’t fit into the history of 20th century western Europe.” Katsteev painted ethnic clothes, and today Saule Dyussenbina incorporates traditional jewels in her art. The nomadic culture is still influential in the contemporary art of Kazakhstan. Who deals with applied arts in contemporary European art? Almost nobody. That’s why I used this twist of the upside down – you have to change your vision and perception if you want to understand what’s happening.
Image courtesy of Halina Kliem
Kuanysh Bazargaliev, When All the People were Kazakh, Ink-jet print on canvas, 2013.
You wanted to avoid stereotypes. Yet one your exhibition’s main topics is national identity.
De Ruyter: That’s not a stereotype. Rather, it’s a question for everybody there. Upon entering Central Asia, you have to understand that these countries were part of something much bigger from the beginning of the 19th century until 1989. That’s why Aluan magazine is released in three languages: Russian – which was the official language of the Soviet Union – as well as the Kazakh language and English. The independence of Kazakhstan was in 1991. Now 25 years old, its people are asking, “What are we? What is our language? What is our religion? What is our culture?” That’s why artists rely on the ornament as a way of connecting to pre Soviet times, to find their roots.
Why does this first issue focus solely on the city of Almaty?
Madanova: That was Thibaut’s idea. We spent a lot of time in Almaty. It’s the ex-capital of the country, located in the south, close to the border with China and Kyrgyzstan. Then the president moved the capital to the centre of Kazakhstan in the mid 1990s. But Astana, the country’s current capital, is in the middle of a steppe and reaches -52°C in winter. Almaty is still the cultural capital.
De Ruyter: Kazakhstan is almost the size of Europe. Almaty is on an earthquake line, meaning it’s possible that one day the city just disappears. The artists featured in the magazine are all based in Almaty. I wanted to get rid of clichés associated with Kazakh art, such as the idea that works always focus on the steppe. Outside Almaty there are artists who relate to shamanism, which is part of the culture. But this is a minority. So I decided to shrink my selection to Almaty, to both the city and the local art scene, which is actually not much of a shrinking, because it’s the cultural capital.
Madanova: Yes, 99% of the artists are based in Almaty.
There is a lot of mapping in the magazine. Is this because of your architectural background, Thibaut?
De Ruyter: Besides the A. Kasteev State Museum, I was also very excited about the Museum of History in Almaty. For this reason, I dedicated a whole room in the exhibition to the city. Artists are dealing with maps, which are also related to identity. You have to put your feet down and find your territory, where one is grounded. That’s why the mapping returns at the end of the exhibition in a more abstract way. Katya Nikonorova uses old tracing paper from the Soviet Union that was used for geological research and she draws over it. She redesigns it. I think there is always something personal in the exhibitions I curate and, as an architect, I fell in love with Almaty.
Image courtesy of Halina Kliem
The magazine itself has a special layout, a monochrome green cover and raster images.
De Ruyter: When we worked on the magazine, Gaisha showed me a book from 1983 at her parents’ house. It’s called “ALMA-ATA Encyclopaedia.” The Soviet Union published it in Kazakh and Russian, and each volume is around 300 pages. Its cover is green and gold. Since we were making this exhibition on paper about Almaty, I thought we should go for this design and gave it to Peter Hübert, the graphic designer of the magazine, as a reference.
Madanova: It was a nice gesture. It shows that we are aware of the history. There were 30,000 copies printed of this encyclopaedia and many people have this book at home. For me, it was not only about making a beautiful design, but to make something conceptual. Each issue of Aluan should be connected to the concept of the curator.
Aluan means diversity in Kazakh, right?
Madanova: Yes – it’s difficult to translate and has a deep meaning, but you could say that it means “different, diverse and colourful.” There was an exhibition in 1989 at the A. Kasteev Museum. It featured contemporary art and it was the first attempt to make something new. It was called Aluan Aluan. So the title of the magazine is a reference to this. Like that exhibition, our magazine wants to be a starting point in order to trigger and develop initiatives in the art scene.
Gaisha Madanova, photo by Camille Rouaud
Thibaut de Ruyter, photo by Tilman Abegg/RN
When will the next issue be published?
Madanova: We’re planning to publish it twice a year, but for now once a year will do. It needs time to develop. Each issue will have a guest curator and it doesn’t necessarily have to be about Kazakhstan.
Can we buy it in Berlin?
Madanova: Yes! It’s currently available at the Walther König bookstore in Hamburger Bahnhof and Do You Read Me?! on Auguststr. 28.
The Berlin presentation of Aluan takes place on 21 March 2016, 8pm, at Bar Babette, and will be hosted by Gaisha Madanova, Thibaut de Ruyter and An Paenhuysen
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