Bukhara delights with art, while the authorities count political dividends
The first Biennale in Bukhara attracted hundreds of thousands of visitors and became one of the most talked-about cultural events in Central Asia. However, behind the aesthetic spectacle and narrative of cultural dialogue lies the question of whether art in Uzbekistan is a space of freedom, or rather a carefully designed tool for building the image of an authoritarian state.
February 20, 2026 -
Anna Gzubicka
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Articles and Commentary
Saule Suleimenova, Shiru Shakar
From September 5th to November 25th, 2025, Bukhara in Uzbekistan hosted its first art Biennale, which attracted crowds of visitors to the city centre. The former capital of the Emirate of Bukhara, which has been experiencing a tourist boom for several years now, welcomed crowds of both domestic and foreign guests. The numbers speak for themselves as the city on the Silk Road welcomed a record number of visitors during the event: 1.6 to 1.8 million people, while the number of tourists across the entire previous year was 2.5 million. According to official data, the event can be described as a success, especially since the guests, enchanted by the aesthetics of the event, seemed to forget that they were in a country that has little to do with freedom of expression.
The biennial was titled “Recipes for Broken Hearts”. Diana Campbell, the American art curator and artistic director of the Bukhara Biennale, explained the idea behind the name, referring to the Uzbek culinary tradition. Undoubtedly, the national dish of Uzbekistan is “plov”, or osh in Uzbek, often referred to as pilaf in English.
It is this dish, based on rice – an ingredient not necessarily associated with deserts and steppes – that inspired the theme of the festival. According to legend, Ibn Sina (better known in Europe as Avicenna), a Bukhara physician and philosopher often referred to as the father of modern medicine, created a recipe for plov to heal the broken heart of a prince who could not marry a craftsman’s daughter. Campbell, however, saw a problem with this story and asked: what about the craftsman’s daughter? What about the craftsman himself? Will they also be able to taste the heart-healing plov? She also emphasized that it is not only a romantically broken heart that needs medicine. Who better to listen to on this matter than an eminent scholar from a city known throughout the world for its heart-wrenching poetry? These questions were to be answered by the artists’ works, although in practice they seemed to be very loosely related to the theme, if at all.
Bukhara at the crossroads of cultures
During the Bukhara Biennale, visitors could see 70 art installations placed in the spaces of old madrasas and mosques, as well as in the city’s more or less central squares. One of the projects that caught the eye was a house made by Subodh Gupta from stainless steel utensils, ubiquitous in India, where the artist comes from. The project was created in collaboration with the Uzbek artist Baxtijor Nazirov and was intended to refer to the problems of migration in India and the cultural memory of displaced people. However, the installation seemed to attract attention mainly because of its “Instagrammable” nature.
Over 200 artists from Uzbekistan and 38 other countries were involved in the Biennale. The 16th-century Govkushon madrasa, where Muslims once studied, was transformed into the House of Softness. The Khoja Kalon Mosque and the 18th-century caravanserai, where merchants once rested and traded, have also undergone a transformation. These historic spaces have been filled with contemporary art. During the festival, guests could also try a special menu served by chefs in historic interiors. In addition, visitors could enjoy art symposiums, film screenings, dance performances, and processions. There was also space for children. The twenty-four-year-old Uzbek artist Zi Kakhramonova, in collaboration with Lilian Cordell from the United Kingdom, created a corner for the youngest visitors, which not only gave parents a moment of respite, but was also filled with symbolic ornaments rich in cultural meaning.
Gayane Umerova, director of the Uzbekistan Art Development Fund and chair of the Uzbekistan National Commission for UNESCO, took on the role of chair of the entire project. In May 2025, during an art symposium in Milan, where Umerova announced the Biennale, she emphasized the special significance of Bukhara on the Silk Road, connecting not only East and West, but also North and South. That is why artists from different cultures collaborated at the Bukhara biennial, and local craftsmen worked with artists from different cultural circles, combining old forms with new ones. One such project was the work of Anvar and Bahrom Gulov in collaboration with Denis Davydov, in which traditional ceramic forms and content were juxtaposed with computer graphics.

Photo: Anna Gzubicka
Success despite difficulties
The organizers have repeatedly emphasized that the Bukhara Biennale marks the beginning of a long-term mission to present and promote art. The very cyclical nature of the event necessitates further work and development of the project. Umerova pointed to the younger generations as the main beneficiaries of the project. On the occasion of the Biennale, the Uzbek authorities announced, among other things, the opening of a new course – creative management – at Westminster University in Tashkent. In addition, a Center for Contemporary Art was established in the capital. Its opening, which was to take place during the festival, was postponed until March next year, but an inaugural concert was already held, given by the young Uzbek artist Laylo. The centre has been entrusted to Sara Raza, author of the book Punk Orientalism and an internationally renowned art curator associated with, among others, the Guggenheim Museum in New York and the Tate Modern gallery. Raza previously worked on a similar project in Baku for the YARAT Contemporary Art Center, where she headed the education department.
Uzbekistan also benefited from the promotion provided by the Bukhara Biennale. During the event, interest in both Bukhara and the rest of the country increased, with culture and art acting as the driving forces behind this development. Among the local benefits, it was easy to see the influx of foreign capital associated with tourism, which translated into a significant increase in income for owners of hotels, restaurants, and similar infrastructure. For many residents, it was also their first opportunity to experience contemporary art – not only within easy reach, but also free of charge, which plays an important role in a country where the national average income does not exceed 529 US dollars.
The inauguration of the event, which took place on September 5th, was attended by, among others, Saida Mirziyoyeva, the eldest daughter of the president of Uzbekistan and the head of his administration. Shavkat Mirziyoyev himself did not appear at the ceremony – his role was limited to signing documents authorizing the organization of the project. However, the opening day was not without incident. Due to a power outage, the curator’s tour, which was to be led by the Biennale curator, was cancelled. The opening of the aforementioned Center for Contemporary Art was also postponed at the last minute to March 2026. Some of the volunteers seemed lost and unfamiliar with the idea of the event. Leaflets and maps were available for guests, but they could not be taken away or purchased. Prolonged browsing of the materials caused frustration among the volunteers and resulted in them rushing those interested.
Despite these shortcomings, foreign media were quick to praise the event. NBC News wrote about “an art fair in Uzbekistan aimed at elevating and reformulating intergenerational craftsmanship”. European media also gave the Biennale a positive review – the Italian newspaper Il Giornale dell’Arte reported: “Uzbek crafts and cuisine heal broken hearts.” Regional media outlets such as The Astana Times wrote about “the Biennale in Bukhara, which aims to draw attention to the creativity of Central Asia”. The media in Arab countries were also delighted, as one of the installations presented in Bukhara had been transported from Saudi Arabia, where it had previously been part of the Islamic Arts Biennale. The South China Morning Post described the event as a signal of a new chapter for Uzbekistan.

Govkushon madrasa. Photo: Anna Gzubicka
Orientalism without punk
However, behind these enthusiastic headlines lies the question of who really benefits from this spectacular festival. Western, Arab and Chinese media promote the event and the entire region, which is part of a scenario familiar from, among others, the World Cup in Qatar and the biennial in Saudi Arabia. Global attention has been effectively diverted from human rights issues to sports or art. Azerbaijan has adopted a similar strategy, investing heavily in the development of culture and the arts. There, as in Bukhara, a relative of the ruling elite was partly responsible for the alternative image promotion model. The YARAT Contemporary Art Center in Baku, where Sara Raza worked, became the prototype for the Tashkent Contemporary Art Center.
In this context, it is worth mentioning Raza’s book, published in 2022 by the British publishing house Black Dog Publishing. The publication has won critical acclaim, but at the same time is an example of a selective narrative that omits uncomfortable facts. Punk Orientalism is an extremely aesthetic publication, intended to present Central Asia as an entity distinct from the former USSR and Russia and to build its independent artistic existence. However, it has little to do with punk – it orientalizes the region, omits contemporary political and social problems, and presents Uzbekistan as a country affected only by a difficult past, in exchange for which it now faces only a better future.
Such practices, in which art and culture are used to improve image and divert attention from the negative aspects of reality, are not a new phenomenon. “Artwashing” is observed all over the world and remains an extremely effective PR tool, as evidenced by the positive reception of the Bukhara Biennale in foreign media and the very limited level of criticism. This is easy to understand in the context of Uzbek reality, where freedom of speech remains an illusion. In the Reporters Without Borders report for 2025, Uzbekistan ranks 148th, between Jordan and Bangladesh. Despite the loudly announced reforms after the death of Islam Karimov, the situation of media critical of the authorities remains extremely difficult. Earlier this year, the Uzbek parliament proposed a new law prohibiting photography and filming in public spaces without the consent of the people in the frame – a solution that affects not only photojournalists but also artists. Criticism of the authorities can result not only in court sentences but also in informal repression. One example of this is the fate of the blogger and journalist Otabek Sattori, who wrote about corruption and was sentenced to six years in prison. His whereabouts remain unknown after his alleged release.
Artistic freedom remains inextricably linked to freedom of speech, although not all artists seem to recognize this. The Indian artist Shilpa Gupta, invited to Azerbaijan, presented a work dedicated to poets imprisoned or killed for opposing injustice. She clearly did not feel any dissonance in presenting her art in a country that ranks 167th in the Reporters Without Borders ranking and almost completely deprives its citizens of freedom of political expression. In Bukhara, Subodh Gupta (the similarity in names is coincidental) presented an installation dedicated to migration. Meanwhile, Uzbekistan, even compared to the rest of the region, performs exceptionally poorly when it comes to its attitude towards refugees and migrants. It is the only country in Central Asia that has not adopted the 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees or the 1967 Protocol Relating to the Status of Refugees, which means that the country essentially has no asylum system. There are about 20,000 stateless persons living in the country, almost half of whom have refugee experience, mainly Afghans. The artist seemed to ignore this context. His installation was placed in the very centre of the city, becoming a popular backdrop for tourists to take photos.

Al Musalla Pavillon. Photo: Anna Gzubicka
The art of image creation
“The Biennale is not about contemporary art or even Uzbekistan, but exclusively about international PR and artwashing,” says Timur Karpov, director of the independent 139 Documentary Center in Tashkent and activist. Until last summer, he managed an artistic space friendly to independent artists. In his opinion, the Bukhara Biennale is a project that is entirely dependent on perspective: as an artistic event, it was not particularly successful, but in political and image terms, it turned out to be a masterpiece.
Karpov emphasizes that the funds allocated to the event—exorbitant by Uzbek standards—could have been used to support society in a real way, but the state consistently invests in its image without offering its citizens any tangible benefits.
“There is no real contemporary art scene in Uzbekistan,” says Karpov, explaining this state of affairs by the lack of a market, interest, and space for critical thinking. The activist points to traditional artists and craftsmen as the only group functioning at a high level.
Timur, who comes from an artistic family, has himself experienced the consequences of a critical attitude towards the authorities. In 2016, he was detained while working. He was held for ten hours and beaten. His artistic activity and documentation of forced cotton harvesting met with clear hostility from the authorities. Six years earlier, during Islam Karimov’s rule, his mother was convicted of “insulting the feelings of Uzbek women” in connection with the film “The Burden of Virginity”, on which she had worked with her husband. When asked about the differences between the situation of artists before Shavkat Mirziyoyev came to power and the current situation, Timur denies that there are any.
“Why would anything change?” he asks rhetorically.
Confronted with the official narrative of the organizers—talking about the Center for Contemporary Art as an investment in future generations, regional development, and the inflow of foreign funds—Timur Karpov remains sceptical. In his opinion, the Center is unable to create space for artists because there is no art scene in Uzbekistan. Development based on opaque data and corrupt mechanisms is an illusion. Karpov predicts that the Bukhara Biennale will end with another cycle of image-building narratives, after which “nothing will change.”
The only thing that will happen is perpetuating conformity and silence as the only effective strategy for functioning within the system. When asked about the possible bright sides of the festival, he emphasized that if the goals and assumptions are wrong, nothing good can come of them.
“The Biennale in Bukhara is not a story about art or its future in Uzbekistan, but about the effectiveness of control and the aestheticization of power,” says the artist.
Anna Gzubicka is a graduate of Russian Studies and Historical Tourism at the University of Gdańsk. She works as a guide above the Arctic Circle. She spends her shorter free moments actively outdoors, and during longer breaks she returns to Central Asia or the Caucasus.




































