A man behind the idea to build the House of Cinema was film director Malik Kayumov who secured the
backing of the then-head of Soviet
Uzbekistan, Sharaf Rashidov. The latter had thrown his bureaucratic weight behind the project and approved
the budget expansion. The Filmmaker Union of the
USSR in Moscow decided to support it financially after the superior management
had a look at the initial concept.
The House was designed by two architects from the Tashgiprogor Design Institute, Rafael Khairutdinov
and Viktor Breusenko. One of the most remarkable buildings of Soviet Tashkent was constructed in a record five-month
period, and the commissioning was aligned with the 1982 Asian, African, and Latin
American Film Festival. The newly built temple of cinema impressed
those who had a
chance to see it in the making. Khairutdinov later recalled how Sergei Bondarchuk remarked, somewhat jealously: “Even us Muscovites don't have such a cinema hall!”
Light,
shadow, marble
The creator of
the Oscar-winning “War and
Peace” film
adaptation had a reason to speak highly of the modernist building in Tashkent. The
Moscow House of Cinema, located between 2nd Brestskaya and Vasilievskaya streets, is not known for outstanding
design. On the contrary, its sister
building in Tashkent was the
right mix of
aesthetics, functionality, structural lightness, and the geometry of light and shades — just like a proper black-and-white movie.
Interestingly,
the House of
Cinema was
designed right in the heart of a busy downtown
Tashkent — the allocated construction site was sandwiched between a metro line and a
kindergarten which architects decided to keep. In the
meantime, there had to be some free space in front of the building
for filming
equipment and – just in case – large crowds. Khairutdinov and Breusenko addressed these challenges by designing
a hall that protruded
sideways and was supported
by four massive pillars. The duo was also mindful of Central Asia’s
harsh climate;
for instance, the drum-shaped main hall casts a large shadow on the main entrance and the surrounds.
An important element of the facade was the combination of large protruding and recessed planes with rounded side towers and narrow window slits with sun protection elements on the light openings. The House of Cinema was decorated using Gazgan marble (the likes of which could be found in metro stations in Tashkent and Moscow), granite, fiberglass plaster, and various cast elements. The painted murals by Bakhodir Jalalov, stained glass windows, and purpose-designed lamps by Viktor and Albert Gan, as well as stylized brass film rolls by Robert Avakyan were to give the exterior and interior a unique look.
An
important element of the facade was the combination of large protruding and recessed planes with rounded side
towers and narrow window slits with sun protection elements on the light
openings. The House of Cinema was decorated using Gazgan marble (the likes of which could be found in metro
stations in Tashkent and Moscow), granite, fiberglass
plaster, and various cast elements. The painted murals by Bakhodir Jalalov, stained glass windows, and purpose-designed lamps by Viktor and
Albert Gan, as well as stylized brass film rolls by Robert Avakyan were to give the exterior and interior a unique look.
The House
of Cinema was not about aesthetics only —filmmakers themselves found it convenient to work in. Svetlana Ivanova, who worked as secretary at Uzbekistan’s Film Association, called it the
heart of the entire cinematic life of the country.
“Nikita
Mikhalkov, Tatyana Lavrova, Natalya Krachkovskaya, Vyacheslav Tikhonov, Oleg
Anofriev, and Natalia Varley would all pay a visit. They used to stay here and have lunch in a restaurant downstairs — they didn’t even have to go outside.
This is, of course, what the architects can claim credit
for. They had nothing to do with
filmmaking, but they
were sensitive
to our needs
and provided
us with everything – isn’t it amazing? We are grateful to them to this day for this home away from home,” she recalled in 2017.
Renovation
vs. Demolition
Throughout 2017 and by the time it was demolished, the House of Cinema had
begun to fall into disrepair. “We used to have our own restaurant, billiards, even
a hotel with six
rooms. There
were only three halls — the Large, the Pink, and the
Small one. Artists and sculptors decorated the exhibition hall. And what
a piece of work
was that! Malik
Kayumov would even order chandeliers from [the Latvian city of] Liepaja,” Ivanova said. Throughout its final years, the House premises were rented out for
offices or restaurants; rooms where filmmakers and young creators would hold meetings were converted into small
cinemas.
Careful
renovation could have breathed new life into the unique modernist monument, but the vicinity of the House of Cinema was repurposed to build the Tashkent City business
district. That was done without much publicity and the
architectural community learned about the planned demolition from social media. House of Cinema staff faced eviction from their
workplaces even
before the Tashkent City construction project was given approval.
Chief architect’s widow, Firuza Khairutdinova, spent a month trying to set up
an open discussion on how to preserve and renovate the House, and amalgamate it into the Tashkent City
concept.
More than 70 Uzbek architects, filmmakers, and
artists signed a petition to President Shavkat Mirziyoyev, but to no avail — the correspondence got stuck in the State Committee for Construction and
Architecture, which forwarded it to Tashkent
City management. Petitioners were soon made
aware that their
effort was useless.
Khairutdinova
happened to
get access to a range of Tashkent
City concepts pitched up by designers from Turkey,
Singapore, the USA, and Uzbekistan. An architect herself, she concluded that it was Singaporean one that looked viable. The project in question included
approaches towards Tashkent’s seismic activity, on-site groundwater, and the need to
preserve modernist monuments. Nevertheless, investors chose to pick up the Turkish one.
What
Architects and Urbanists Say
Architect
Takhmina Turdialieva, founder of the independent Association of Young
Architects of Uzbekistan, believes that demolitions and redevelopment erase the
material history of Tashkent: “The pain point is the demolition of our cultural
architectural monuments, because they cannot be brought back or restored... when the House
of Cinema was demolished, I was very upset, but I was young and didn't know how
to influence the situation. Later, I realized that these were not random mistakes made by the authorities but a lack
of understanding of how precious these
buildings were; that
should be communicated to the
government.”
Her
colleague Alexander Kuranov didn’t mince his words: “[Soviet] Modernism of the 1960s and 1980s is an amazing and complex
period, and it was
a bit of a pain for
architects. We as regular Tashkent residents
sometimes struggle to comprehend this architecture. Take, for example, projects by Rafael Khairutdinov: the
unique House of Cinema — now demolished, the House of Foresters — demolished as well. This is a crime and an act of barbarism!”
The House
of Foresters, faced a
wrecking ball just a few month after the House of Cinema was demolished. It was built in 1974 and featured a Forestry Design Institute, an exhibition hall dedicated
to Uzbekistan’s flora and fauna, and a thematic store called Nature. The façade was unconventional: vertical two- and three-story
elements resembled tree trunks and crowns, with the entire structure
blending into the
surrounding environment. It protected the interior from the summer heat and eliminated the need for
air conditioning. This place is now occupied by the NestOne tower.
Experts
believe that the demolished buildings could have found a place in the Tashkent City landscape. Alexander Fedorov, who studies the aesthetics of Soviet
modernist architecture, noted, “When I thought about how do we transform the Tashkent modernist buildings, I realized that
there are many such buildings. Take, for example, the House of Cinema, which I
integrated into the Tashkent City environment using a collage. After all, if it
had not been demolished, it could stand out. New districts can always be merged with with modernist architecture.”
Fatima
Abdurakhmanova, an activist and street photographer, reminded that the House of Cinema was destroyed along with its
unique foyer murals.
“This is troublesome
because unique and
inspiring
pieces of art are now gone forever.”