Tashkent's Soviet modernism recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage site. In Minsk, it's covered with ceramic granite and refused protection
While one former Soviet republic turns its brutalist heritage into a world-renowned tourist brand, another stubbornly ignores and destroys it.
At the 48th session of the UNESCO World Heritage Committee in Busan, South Korea, a historic decision was made: ten modernist buildings in Tashkent were immediately added to the prestigious international list.
The UNESCO decision legitimizes an entire architectural era, which is still viewed ambiguously, if not disdainfully, in the post-Soviet space.
Tashkent's triumph arose from tragedy. In April 1966, a powerful earthquake leveled the city center. Soviet authorities decided not just to restore what was destroyed, but to build a showcase of socialism in the East on the site of the adobe quarters. For this purpose, architectural specialists from all over the Soviet empire were sent here. Belarusian specialists also participated in the reconstruction: employees of the "Belgosproekt" institute developed a conceptual design and development projects for several microdistricts in Tashkent's largest residential area - Chilonzor.
Thus, a unique phenomenon was born - Tashkent seismic modernism. Universal European functionalism here encountered the hot Asian climate and local mentality, giving rise to a hybrid architecture that is today perceived by Western researchers as a separate phenomenon of world art.
The intersection of global and local became solutions dictated by the natural environment itself. Brutalist reinforced concrete was transformed into giant panjaras — traditional oriental sun-protective lattices that saved interiors from unbearable heat and gave the facades a unique texture. A striking example of such a synthesis is the "Uzbekistan" hotel, whose curved monumental volume is entirely covered with a continuous lace pattern. This building rises above the city as a symbol of an era, demonstrating that pragmatic architecture can have a distinct national character.
Another masterpiece now under UNESCO protection is the experimental residential building "Zhamchuzhina" (Pearl), designed by architect Ophelia Aidynova. She managed to solve a seemingly impossible task: to transfer the concept of a mahalla, a traditional oriental community with quiet inner courtyards, into a vertical plane. Every three floors of this high-rise were united by a common courtyard-recreation area directly in the air. There, neighbors could gather, drink tea in the shade of trees, and maintain their usual social structure within a monolithic expanded clay concrete structure. Pure Western form acquired deep Eastern content.
Destruction — the price of enlightenment
The path to global recognition is never cloudless, and the Uzbek triumph at UNESCO largely grew from a bitter awareness of irreversible losses. For society to begin to value its architectural heritage, it often first has to see it in ruins.
Rapid urbanization, an economic boom in Uzbekistan, and large-scale development projects aimed at creating a gleaming capitalist facade, directly threatened the city's very identity.
The most resonant episode that forced activists and researchers to sound the alarm was the demolition of the Republican Cinema House in December 2017. This monumental building, designed by architect Rafael Khairutdinov for the Seventh International Film Festival of Asian, African, and Latin American Countries, opened its doors in 1982. Its distinct cylindrical facade was adorned with mosaics and stained glass by prominent artists Bahadir Jalalov and Viktor Gana, and inside were modern halls for film screenings and cultural discussions.
Its obvious artistic value did not save the Cinema House from excavators — it was demolished to clear the territory for the construction of glass skyscrapers of the Tashkent City commercial center. This event became a kind of point of no return, after which it became simply impossible to ignore the problem of destroying the urban history of the XX century.
While some masterpieces turned into rubble, others became victims of "Euro-renovations," no less destructive in their essence. A striking example is the State Museum of Arts, built in 1974. Initially, it was a concise cubic volume, whose facade was assembled from stamped aluminum sheets and frosted "stevit" glass. Such material provided ideal uniform lighting for the exhibition halls. However, in the early 2000s, this example of modernist architecture was hidden under a cheap facade of alucobond and mirrored glass, artificially imitating some pseudo-classical facade. The integrity of the original architectural solution was violated, and the building turned into an absurd parody of itself, losing its authenticity to cater to the tastes of the new masters of life.
Only balancing on the verge of losing its own appearance did Tashkent realize that commercial pragmatism without respect for historical context turns the city into a faceless province. Having grasped this danger, the Uzbek authorities and intelligentsia took a step that no other post-Soviet country had dared to take until now.
Soviet or Uzbek?
The realization of the catastrophe demanded a systemic response. In 2021, the Art and Culture Development Foundation of Uzbekistan (ACDF) launched a large-scale research and protection project "Tashkent Modernism XX/XXI". Its ambitious goal was not just to stop the destruction and degradation of iconic objects, but to completely change the optics of their perception.
It was necessary to convince its own society and the international community that these massive concrete giants are not ideological remnants of the Soviet empire, but a full-fledged national heritage, Uzbekistan's unique contribution to the world history of architecture.
To achieve this goal, the best international specialists were involved in the work. The team included researchers from the Milan Polytechnic University led by Grace studio, as well as renowned historians and curators.
Moreover, at the project's inaugural conference in 2023, Rem Koolhaas himself — a living classic of world architecture, founder of OMA bureau, and Pritzker Prize laureate — delivered the keynote lecture "A New Preservation". His presence gave the initiative exceptional international weight.
Koolhaas has long developed the idea that the preservation of historical environments should not be a passive conservation of ruins, but an active design tool where old and new engage in a creative dialogue.
The rescue strategy was based on detailed scientific analysis. A large-scale inventory was conducted: specialists studied archives, interviewed living creators of the projects, and assessed the technical condition of 25 key buildings. The result of this titanic work was not only an exhibition at the Milan Triennale and at the GES-2 House of Culture in Moscow, but also the development of a concrete management plan for this heritage.
The most important thing achieved by the researchers was to decolonize their own architecture. For a long time, Tashkent's modernist heritage was perceived as something imposed from outside, a transmission of Moscow's will to the outskirts of the empire. But the project clearly showed that despite centralized control in the USSR, Uzbek architects created their own school.
Masters such as Sergo Sutyagin, Rafael Khairutdinov, Ophelia Aidynova reworked international trends and Soviet norms, integrating them into the local climate, culture, and even traditions of Islamic architecture, such as complex mosaic panels or stylization of muqarnas on the facade of the Palace of Friendship of Peoples.
This was not a blind copy of the "international style," but a complex hybrid phenomenon that defined the face of the city.
Thus, Uzbekistan managed to separate the architectural form from its communist content. Today, these buildings are perceived not as monuments to Soviet power, but as testaments to the technological, social, and artistic experiment that took place on their land. This intellectual shift allowed the national nomination "Modernist Architecture of Tashkent" to be included in the UNESCO list, providing not only legal protection but also a new understanding of its history.
Belarusian Mirror
Belarus already appears intellectually and culturally immature even against the background of Uzbekistan. While Tashkent successfully passed the complex stages of denial, acceptance, and self-representation through Soviet modernism on an international level, our country is firmly stuck on the very first of them.
The authorities stubbornly declare an unbreakable connection with the Soviet past, but in the material space this manifests itself quite absurdly: typical concrete castings of Lenin, scattered throughout the country, are preserved as if they were holy relics, while monumental works of the first magnitude, which truly define the appearance of our cities, are of no concern to anyone.
From the ordinary inhabitant to officials formally responsible for heritage protection, the attitude towards post-war architecture is permeated with a provincial complex. For them, bare concrete is exclusively a sign of poverty, while cheap shiny ceramic granite is a mandatory symbol of prosperity and illusory "Europeanness."
Practically none of our national masterpieces of modernism have official protection status. Neither the famous "corn-cobs" on Kamarouka, nor the luxurious buildings of design institutes with rich monumental decoration, nor the unique interiors of the first stations of the Minsk Metro, nor even the Musical Comedy Theater are recognized as historical and cultural values. Although it is precisely these that deserve to proudly represent the country to the world alongside the Tashkent objects.
Much has been lost, and most importantly — we continue to lose. In 2017, Minsk forever lost the VDNKh pavilion on Yanka Kupala street, which was demolished for the construction of another hotel complex. During the creation of the State Flag Square, the original stele with Mercury was destroyed. It was an integral part of the "MinskExpo" exhibition pavilion, which due to its shape was popularly called "Chamomile". Despite its unique construction with hyperbolic paraboloid roofs, this building also did not earn the right in the eyes of officials to be considered a national treasure.
The "Belpromproekt" building on Nyamiha was built using a combination of opposing large transparent glass areas and narrow bands of contrasting textured concrete.
What isn't demolished, perishes during reconstructions. The Palace of Sports, the "Belarus" and "Jubileynaya" hotels, as well as the "Belpromproekt" building on Nyamiha, have already been successfully covered with metal, plastic, and mirrored glass in colored frames. Authentic decorative metal elements were removed from the House of Fashion. The once light glass volume of the "Kamenny Tsvetok" restaurant now resembles a maximum-security prison with tiny windows right under the roof.
The story of the "Moskva" cinema was particularly illustrative. When plans to destroy its original volumetric-spatial solution became known to the public, activists prepared a detailed 130-page proposal. They demanded that the entire ensemble of Pobediteley Avenue be granted protected status. However, the metropolitan architecture committee effectively sabotaged the instruction of higher authorities to consider this document: if the buildings were recognized as monuments, most of the design solutions would become illegal.
As a result, the ensemble remained unprotected, and the noble natural stone was unimpededly removed from the cinema, replaced by a ceramic granite ventilated facade. Next in line is the House of Trade Unions building at the corner with Melnikayte Street, whose cladding project was prepared several years ago.
While Tashkent turns to global specialists to re-evaluate its Soviet heritage, Minsk continues to suffer from total architectural amnesia. With such an approach, we risk leaving our descendants only faceless monuments of the era of ventilated facades and plastic windows.
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Comments
Тая ж лінія думкі і паводзін, тая ж кароткая памяць.
Трэба доўга працаваць над густамі, каб яны змянілі танныя стэрэатыпы.
Пры гэтым канкрэтна Белпрампраект уляпілі ў стары цэнтр, тады гэта безумоўна было горадабудаўнічым злачынствам.
Вельмі прыгожыя фатаграфіі з Ташкента, прыемна паглядзець.