Ville Haapasalo is a popular actor in Russia. In Finland, he has recently become famous for his TV documentaries about the Silk Road and the states that became independent after the fall of the Soviet Union. Now Finnish television has started to show a new series about the Finno-Ugric minorities in the Russian Federation. Today, I am watching the first episode of "Suomensukuiset 30 päivässä" (The Finnic Relatives in 30 Days - more exactly, the series focuses on the Mari, the Erzya and Moksha, the Komi, the Udmurt, the Khanty and Mansi).
Haapasalo tries very hard to act like an ordinary ignorant guy, but the schedule of the series shows that somebody has been doing some proper research. As the starting point for his journey, he chooses Kazan, the capital of the Republic of Tatarstan, and devotes much time to the special cultural and religious mix of the thousand-year-old city. It is a necessary historical lesson for the Finnish audience who may not know about the role of Islam in Russian history, and the close contacts between the speakers of Finno-Ugric and Turko-Tatar languages. In fact, their fate has often been intertwined - their cultures have mixed with each other as much as with the Slavic-speakers; languages and religions have been switched back and forth. But this is a long story, and in this post, I will only show some
entertaining screencaps, which do not reflect the full scope of the
first episode.
Ville Haapasalo meets an imam in Kazan, who reminds us of the necessity to teach children not to discriminate people according to race, nationality or religion. This interesting conversation contrasts a conflict-torn Europe with a harmonious Tatarstan - I won't go into much more detail about the complicated reality behind those images, but there are certainly lessons to be learned from the Tatar balancing act.
Talking about the many nationalities living and working in Kazan: "Everyone can do something for their nation." Farid is Ville's guide in Kazan. He is an event organizer and a perfect diplomat, a Tatar in other words ;)
Boys cheering for the football club Rubin Kazan.
Ville also visits a stable with the "fastest horses of the world". Many of them seem to be gifts to the former premier of Tatarstan, Mintimer Shaimiyev. The horses have their own solarium...
The akhal-teke Nurik is a gift from Nursultan Nazarbayev, the president of Kazakhstan. He refuses to do tricks on command...
Random doggy (for Tinet).
One problem with this programme is that we don't learn the names of a lot of important people whom Haapasalo interviews. Here are two hobby ethnographers who collect folklore among the Mari people and publish their results on their own website, for the interest of the general public, as Ville himself notes. So why not make it available for us?
One of the ethnographers looks a lot like Rudolf Nureyev in profile, only with dark hair. He also skipped the glass of vodka that came with the dinner. I wonder if he is Tatar? Of course, they both could be - many Tatars enjoy vodka, too...
This was only half of the programme, but if you live in Finland you can watch the whole thing here.
Here's a cute little video by Kyrgyz pop singer Sultan Sadyraliev: "Jonokoi jigit" (Simple Guy).
"Jigit" has a special meaning in many Turkic languages. In Kyrgyz language today, it means young man or boyfriend. (I'm not quite sure about the nuance, so I translated the name of the song simply as "Simple Guy".)
In Tatar, jigit and batyr have had similar meanings - brave young man, valorous knight. The jigit is the young hero who sets out on a journey in life, ready to learn what it means to be a man.
The Tatar poet Gabderrahim Utyz Imyani (1754-1836) was born in Chistopol, the second-largest city in the province of Kazan before 1917. He travelled throughout Central Asia for many years before returning to his hometown and becoming a teacher. He wrote a poem about the deeper meaning of the word jigit. I found this translation in Historical anthology of Kazan Tatar verse: voices of eternity, by Ravilʹ Bukharaev and D. J. Matthews (Routledge 2000). It is a richly illustrated book with numerous translations of poetry and detailed historical commentary.
What it means to be a Jigit
O proud and valiant horseman, sitting high upon your steed! Display your virtues to your land and let it pay them heed. If neighbours are in penury, then help them in their plight. Your duty is unselfishness and doing what is right.
Make a promise and fulfill it; Faith you must obey. Offending others for the slightest thing is not your way. Let evil words not cross your lips; for liars have no use. A simple smile conveys a perfect answer to abuse.
And do not boast that you are better than your fellow-men. For beauty will not linger; it soon passes. And what then? The most that you can hope for is a day or two, not more. And then you'll rot and feed the worms. And that's the final score!
For in this world are rich men and the poor whom they despise; And fools as well dwell in our midst, and those whom we call wise; If someone isn't master then he's but a servant's brat. But common sense will tell us that it isn't quite like that.
One is crowned by fortune, and another's blessed by wit. Whichever gift he's served by, he will be no worse for it.
The moral of these verses is not very different from the theme of Sultan's modern music video. The simple guy is rewarded in the end...
The professional photographer Max Penson documented life and ideals in Soviet Turkistan (today's Uzbekistan) that was going through enormous social and economic upheavals in the early 20th century. Penson was born to a poor Jewish family in Belarus, 1893, and escaped pogroms and persecution to Central Asia during the First World War. He worked as an art teacher in Kokand, but his life changed when he managed to obtain a camera in the early 1920's. Between 1920 and 1940 he produced 30,000 photographs of innumerable subjects including education, industrialization, military training, farming, leisure and portraiture. At the Paris World Exhibition in 1937, Penson was awarded the Grand Prix for his portrait of "The Uzbek Madonna", a young woman nursing her child. Sergei Eisenstein praised him for his dedication to his chosen homeland: "There cannot be many masters left who choose a specific terrain for their work, dedicate themselves completely to and make it an intergrated part of their personal destiny." (quoted in Enter)
Penson worked for Central Asia's largest newspaper, Pravda Vostoka, in Tashkent, until Stalin's purges of Jews in the late 1940's pushed him out of his position and into a decade of depression. Penson died in 1959, but his work lives on as a priceless document of a dynamic but also tragic chapter in Central Asian history. All these photographs were selected from the official Max Penson website. I sincerely recommend a visit to the website for much more information and photographs. There is also an interesting topical selection at the Nailya Alexander Gallery.
Students in class.
The sculptor Khaidarov at work on a Lenin bust.
Although I have selected images chiefly of Chirayliq interest, I hope that something of the wide range of Penson's techniques is conveyed to the casual reader. He created images for propagandistic purposes, but he was conscious of the importance of the human element - you may call it imperfection or an element of chance.
A cotton farmer resting.
Russians and Uzbeks celebrating a holiday - with a dombura, or is it a dutar?
While the propagandistic elements may come off as blatant - a bust of Lenin, a militant pose, a brand-new tractor - the human element is much more subtle, yet crucial: a wrinkled eyebrow, a shy smile that does not quite reach the mouth, a bemused gaze, a gesture of tenderness. Penson told his photographer son's editor: “My son is using a flash in his photos very often. Tell him to use his heart instead...” (Quote: Enter)
Portrait of an Uzbek man.
A soldier with field radio equipment.
An Uzbek boy with puppies.
Max Penson himself.
Do NOT miss the gallery section at the official Max Penson site. This is just a tiny selection! It's a must for anyone who is interested in Soviet and Central Asian history, and the art of photography.
Strange to end up writing about Ğabdulla Tuqay after searching for Ildar Urmanche - both were influential Tatars in the world of art, but Tuqay is definitely more famous than the Soviet animation director Urmanche.
The national poet of Tatarstan, Ğabdulla Tuqay (often spelled Gabdulla Tuqai or Tukai), lived a short but intense life around the previous turn of the century (1886 - 1913). His works are considered as the backbone of Tatar literature, the measure which others are measured against, inescapable in cultural celebrations as well as in primary school. His poem Tuğan tel (O Native Tongue; see the end of this post for a music video) became the inofficial anthem of the Tatar language. The story of his life is worthy of a Dostoyevsky novel.
Posthumous portrait by E. Simbirin, 1976.
Ğabdulla Tuqay was the son of a village mullah. Tuqay's childhood was restless, his parents and his stepmother died, one after another, and Tuqay was sent around from family to family, always forced to find a new place to live because of death, illness or poverty. During his stay with one family, Ğabdulla was sent to the local madrasah (religious school of Islam). He showed promise as a student, but his wandering days were not over. Some relatives in Uralsk (today Oral in Kazakhstan) adopted him. He could attend another madrasah, and in 1896 also a Russian school. There he studied Russian literature and started to write poetry, especially inspired by Pushkin.
Tuqay was uninterested in business, although his stepfather was a merchant and tried to involve him in the trade. When his stepfather died, Tuqay moved into the madrasah and lived a studious but austere life. The year 1902 became a turning point - Ğabdulla suddenly lost interest in religious rote learning. He tasted alcohol, took up smoking, let his hair grow longer and turned to poetry. Earlier he had shown interest in folklore and asked traveling scholars to bring him local songs and tales. His madrasah studies had familiarized him with Old Tatar literature, which was heavily influenced by Arabic, Persian and Turkic. An ambition took root in him to create a new and living Tatar literature closer to the way the common people spoke.
Tuqay was not heroically handsome; he was physically fragile and boyish even in maturity and illness. The pictures in this post show how artists idealized him by focusing on his soulful eyes and intensifying the power of his gaze instead. Here, actor G. Shamukov does his best to emphasize the masculine determination in Tuqay, even on his sickbed. (More photos of Tuqay and actors portraying him)
Tuqay started to work at a secular publishing house in Uralsk. The printed media boomed after the October Manifesto of 1905, which introduced more liberal censorship laws. Previously, it was forbidden to publish newspapers in the Tatar language. By day Tuqay worked as a typesetter and proofreader, by night he wrote verses, articles and short stories and translated Russian texts. He became interested in liberal and social-democratic ideas, which intertwined with a vision of national emancipation. Tuqay wrote, Bezneñ millät, ülgänme, ällä yoqlağan ğınamı? (Is our nation dead, or only sleeping?). He criticised the conservative clergy in clever satires. When ultra-nationalist Russians told Tatars to emigrate to the Ottoman Empire, Tuqay replied with a passionate declaration: Kitmibez! (We don't leave!). For Tuqay, the Tatars were the Russians' brother-nation.
Political and economic pressure increased on the press. While Tuqay's fame allowed him move out of the madrasah and he didn't lack offers of work, the political unrest also led him towards poetry and the development of modern Tatar as a literary language. His first poem was Şüräle, based on a Tatar fairytale. Soon, he was invited to work in Kazan. Ominously, he was exempted of the notoriously brutal military draft due to his poor health. It was a foreboding of the end of his short life, but it freed him to his work. In Kazan, Tuqay was barely 20 and already famous. Fame usually brings romantic attention, too. However, Tuqay apparently avoided women and wrote tender verses to one person alone, his 15-year-old admirer Zäytünä Mäwlüdova.
In 1909-1910 the prime minister of Russia, Pyotr Stolypin, cracked down on the press and limited the freedoms of 1905. Tuqay was deeply distressed. All the struggle seemed to have been futile. Some of his old friends began to work for conservative papers and responded to Tuqay's criticism by calling him a Russophile. Ironically, the Tsarist secret police suspected that his poetry was Russophobic! While meant as an insult, "Russophile" was closer to the truth. Tuqay mourned Leo Tolstoy's death in 1910. He was inspired by Tolstoy's humanism and concern for the weakest.
Illustration for Tuqay's tales for children, by T. Khaziakhmetov, 1981.
Tuqay and Kumis Therapy
Kumis is fermented mare's milk, a staple drink in the Central Asian countries. In the late 19th century, kumis therapy was a popular health fad in the Russian Empire. Patients travelled to resorts in the southeastern parts of the Empire and enjoyed "suitable light and varied amusement" - and drank large amounts of kumis, which made Anton Chekhov gain 12 pounds in two weeks but did not cure his tuberculosis. Leo Tolstoy described kumis therapy as a treatment for burnout in A Confession: "I fell ill, mentally rather than physically, threw up everything, and went away to the Bashkirs in the steppes, to breathe fresh air, drink kumys, and live a merely animal life."
Like Chekhov, Tuqay suffered from tuberculosis. He realized that he needed all his powers to continue the struggle for national rights and democracy - and he dreamed of writing "the Tatar Eugen Onegin" - but he needed to regain his health. Tuqay travelled from Kazan by the great Volga southwards to Astrakhan, where he experienced kumis therapy. Another trip took him to Ufa and St. Petersburg, where a doctor withheld from him that his illness had reached the final stage. In 1912, he lived among Kazakh nomads, drinking kumiss regularly.
Tuqay in St. Petersburg, by M. Rakhimov, 1975.
Although kumis couldn't cure him, it gave him back his optimism. In the poems of his final year he wrote that the struggle had not been in vain, and focused on social concerns. Many of his verses were banned, and some of them were published only after the October Revolution. One poem unfortunately remembered was his ode to the 300th anniversary of the Romanov dynasty. In the 1920s, Tuqay was dismissed as a "Tsarist" because of this poem, which nevertheless ends with a call for internationalism within Russia and praises the eternal friendship between Tatars and Russians.
Bust by Baki Urmanche, who had a son named Ildar - could he be the art director whom I mentioned in the beginning?
On April 15, 1913, Ğabdulla Tuqay died at the age of 27. April 26, his birthday, is celebrated nowadays as the Day of Tatar Language. The Peremech Lounge has a photo of his grave and pictures of an interesting Tuqay pocket reader from the Soviet era. Oh yeah, almost forgot: Here's Tatar boy band Kazan Egetläre giving their version of Tugan tel...
With the school's profile, the largest number of teachers seems to be in Machine Building. Either that, or Machine Building has the most handsome teachers. In any case I saved the most Machine Building teachers on my hard drive:
Hasan Kilavuzoğlu (who taught at the school in 1980-1985)
Hayri Çalişkan (1979-1995)
Orhan Doğandil (1968-1971)
Ahmer Uçan (1967-1968)
Nevzar Birol (1959-1964)
Ainur thinks Mr. Vahap Aydal (1956-1959) looks like a werewolf.
Mr. M.Kemal Kutlu (1950-1952) with his hairdo and moustache reminds me of my high school classmate Wassim, whose father for the first time got me really interested in and shocked at what was happening in Palestine. (Wassim means 'handsome'.)
Vahit Hindioğlu (1948-1949)
Here are Mr. Oğuz Bozdoğan and Mr. Cevdet Ekmekcioğlu who taught Metal Works in 1977-1980 and 1972-1974:
... But I think my favourite subject would have been Maths with Mr. Ziya Yeşilbursa in 1976-1978:
See more teachers from the Yozgat Anadolu Technical and Vocational High School!
Chirayliq is the Uighur word for 'handsome, pretty, beautiful, attractive'. This blog concerns itself with the handsomeness of Central Asian men, and not only. From the Black Sea to Kamchatka, from the Kara Sea to Himalaya, this is a gallery celebrating the rugged charm of the men from the steppes, mountains, deserts and taigas.
Questions? Suggestions? Want to submit your own photos? Feel free to contact blogmaster Tinet.
Many of the photographs and other materials featured on this blog are by us. Works that we don't own the rights to are used within the concept of Fair Use as "quotations".
But if you do not wish to see your work here, E-mail Tinet and she'll remove it.
About us
Tinet - after many years of studying among other things the Russian language and the cultural history of Russia, the Soviet Union and the Middle East, she has moved to one of the many cities of her dreams (Berlin, Germany) and works as a gun for hire for various publishing companies with typesetting, graphic design, translating and writing, besides drawing comics about funny Russians. She dreams of making big fat richly illustrated coffee table books about the images of Central Asian, Caucasian or Russian men from a cultural historic angle.
Ainur - Ph.D. of History at the University of Lund, Sweden, who in her research has focused on nationalism, identity and stereotypes, mainly in the context of Finnish views on Swedes. She also draws historically correct comics about the Jazz age in the 1920's, which also deal with nationalism, identity and stereotypes, in a quite entertaining way.
Tinet and Ainur are sisters, and their ethnic background is as follows: 62.5% Finnish, 25% Mishär Tatar, 12.5% Kale (Finnish Roma).