Today, many of the cities of the Central Asian Stans are defined by a new “trophy city” architecture meant to reflect modernity and progress, and to glorify the leaders who planned them. Look a bit deeper, though, and many signs of the Soviet past are still there in the architecture and layout of the cities.

The Soviet elements of the cities are not just manifested in wide avenues and drab apartment blocks, but also in the vast murals and mosaics that adorn many buildings. The heritage comes from both the ideological drive of the Soviet state, but also a belief in inspiring citizens with beautiful everyday surroundings.

People often call them propaganda but many of them have very little to do with party ideology Dennis Keen

The 1965 Enlik-Kebek mosaic on the outside of the Hotel Almaty in Kazakhstan



The first Soviet mosaics appeared in the 1930s, adorning the grand Stalinist neo-classical train stations, theatres and the stations of the Moscow metro. It then fell out of fashion in the 1950s under Nikita Khrushchev, but the monumentalist art aesthetic reappeared under Leonid Brezhnev in the late 1960s and 1970s. This was when most of the art appeared in Central Asian cities.

Q&A Secret Stans: where are the Stans? Show Hide Guardian Cities is exploring in depth the oft-ignored – and exceedingly difficult to report from – cities of the five Central Asian “Stans”: Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan, a quarter of a century after they became independent from the former Soviet Union. From the bizarre architecture of the “trophy cities” to the joys and struggles of everyday urban life in some very unequal societies, our goal is to engage with the people who actually live in the Stans cities by publishing some of our reporting in the languages spoken there: not just Russian, often considered the language of the elite, but Turkmen, Kazakh, Uzbek, Kyrgyz and Tajik. You can read the rest of the Secret Stans series here.



In the late Soviet period, any new public building automatically had 5% of the budget earmarked for “artistic elements,” said Eva Rukhina, a Moscow-based journalist and researcher. If the project was a prestigious building, these would be designed bespoke by local artists.

A Soviet mural in the centre of Osh, Kyrgyzstan



Vladimir Tverdokhlebov graduated from the Mukhina Institute in Leningrad in 1967 and was dispatched to Almaty, where over the next decade he worked on a number of mosaics, murals and stained glass windows to adorn prestigious newly constructed buildings.

Details from the 1965 Enlik-Kebek mosaic at the Hotel Almaty



Tverdokhlebov, now 80, said he would create a large sketch of the proposed mosaic design, and when it was approved he would then travel personally to a factory in Lisichansk, eastern Ukraine, to order the smalt – specially prepared ceramic tiles made from heating glass. “Later, they would deliver the smalt, and a team of masters would work with me on cutting and assembling it here in Almaty,” he said. His commissions varied from mosaic portraits of leading scientists to a farm-themed tableau for a dairy plant.

A Soviet mosaic in Karaghandy, Kazakhstan



“All these artists were trained not only to create mosaics, but also murals, sgraffito, stained glass windows and bas relief,” said Dennis Keen, an Almaty-based American who runs the Monumental Almaty blog. Today, many murals and mosaics have been painted over or destroyed, while others have been neglected. The Soviet art, as a reminder of a fallen political system, is not high on the urban preservation list in most Central Asian cities. Keen said in around 80% of cases, even the identity of the artist has been lost.

A mosaic in Semey, Kazakhstan



Inside the Kazakh Academy of Sciences, Tverdokhlebov designed a huge Lenin that dominates a conference room, in the so-called “Florentine mosaic” style, which uses precious stones and marble. The materials were acquired from a local minerals and plant, and a team of jewellers worked on cutting the stones. Today, the mosaic is covered with tarpaulin due to its ideological inappropriateness.

Mosaics in the Uzbek city of Bukhara



Not everything is about Lenin or Communism, however. “People often call them propaganda but many of them have very little to do with party ideology,” said Keen.

On the outside of the Hotel Almaty is a retelling-in-mosaic of Enlik-Kebek, a Kazakh folk tale about starcrossed lovers from different tribes, with a similar plotline to Romeo and Juliet. The mosaic storybook begins with the two lovers meeting on horseback and ends with their happy union after enduring trials and tribulations on the way.

Many other mosaics show idealised Soviet citizens, or glorify Soviet achievements in space, science or sport. They extol the glories of a system that has long since collapsed. In a region where new personality cults have flourished they should perhaps also serve as an Ozymandias-like reminder of the fragility of even the grandest of nation-building projects.

Do you live in one of the Stans cities, or have you spent time there? We’re eager to hear your thoughts and experiences. Follow us on Facebook and share stories and pictures using #SecretStans on Twitter and Instagram