Back in December 2024, an HD magazine
team recorded an
interview with the head of the Academy of Arts, Ibrohim Valikhodjaev, on the Hall’s premises. The interior looked
dismal: rain flowed through the bad roof and there was no
heating. Chilly rooms started to take a toll on the Academy staff and their paintings. A place designed to host nationwide exhibitions and biennale has seen better days and is in dire need of major repairs.
Here is why we commissioned
this piece.
Vision to construction
The idea of a major exhibition space in Tashkent dates
back to 1970 – however, Tashkent’s Main Architectural and
Planning Council (GlavAPU) rejected the initial project as unfeasible for an exhibition venue. It wasn't until 1976 that
the concept materialized in a different form — this time as the Museum
of People’s Friendship dedicated to the victims of the 1966 Tashkent earthquake.
The Central Exhibition Hall as we now know it was designed by Uzbek architects Rafael and Firuza Khayrutdinov. For Rafael Khayrutdinov, that was one of his first major architectural projects. Originally trained as an artist, he intrinsically understood what an ideal space should look like for both creators and visitors.
To refine his vision, Khayrutdinov presented his
sketches and a scale model to some of the most respected artists of Soviet Uzbekistan, Chingiz Akhmarov, Rakhim Akhmedov, Akmal Nur, and others. They endorsed the design, recognizing the seamless amalgamation of
architecture and artistic sensibilities.
Uzbekgidroenergostroy, a major local construction company, was selected as a general
contractor for the project. One its chief
engineers, Georgiy Isaev, previously in charge of building the
Charvak Hydroelectric Dam, oversaw the
construction works and played a
crucial role in innovating the hall’s façade. Under his guidance, the
distinctive arched panels with ornamental designs were precast in specialized
molds and installed on-site — an example of how industrial
construction technologies gained prominence at the time.
Artistic prowess and bureaucratic conundrums
As the project neared completion, artist Rakhim
Akhmedov arranged a meeting between the architects and Sharaf Rashidov, then-head of the
Communist Party of Uzbekistan. A quick
thinker, Rashidov not only approved
the project but greenlighted
the budget expansion by 50%.
The Hall’s design featured elements of traditional Uzbek style, with a
layout centered around a two-story atrium that provided natural vertical
ventilation. A deep summer gallery with arched structures added an unmistakable
Oriental look to the
building, offering views of the adjacent boulevard and sculpture park. Beyond
aesthetics, this feature shielded the ground floor from direct sunlight,
maintaining a comfortable indoor climate. The second floor utilized a similar idea — folded panels cast shadows, while ventilated air
pockets between walls reduced heat absorption. Remarkably, it was
Khayrutdinov’s wife who meticulously calculated the building’s natural light
exposure, ensuring an intricate play of sunlight filtering through the
skylights.
A masterpiece of light and space
Lighting played a pivotal role in the Hall’s concept, with a strong emphasis on natural
illumination. The central hall was crowned with pop-art-inspired arched
skylights, designed to modulate sunlight throughout the day. This careful
calibration resulted in a dynamic interplay of warm and cool tones, enhancing
the visual impact of exhibits. Even decades later, this lighting system
continues to captivate visitors.
Along the roof’s perimeter, two rows of specially
glazed skylights were embedded into the ceiling structure, diffusing soft
natural light across the second floor. Unfortunately, in the 2000s, poor
waterproofing caused leaks during rainstorms; the
skylights were eventually sealed off and replaced by artificial
lighting. Proper renovation
and modern translucent materials, on a par with adequate insulation, could reinstate the original
design, reviving the intended ambiance of the space.
Shelved renovation plans
In 2005, the Hall administration proposed enclosing
the gallery with glass to accommodate additional spaces for the Academy of Arts
of Uzbekistan. Architect Khayrutdinov offered an alternative option, that is to expand the underground level beneath the three-meter
embankment on which the building stands. His solution would have preserved the Hall’s exterior aesthetics, but the plan never came true due to the lack of funding.
The idea behind glazing the gallery
resurfaced in 2022 during discussions on major renovations. However, prominent
artists, led by Akmal Nur, opposed the move, fearing it would irreversibly
alter the building’s authenticity. Their concerns were taken into account and the proposal was scrapped, as was the financial support for restoration.
A landmark under threat
Today, this architectural masterpiece is in decline.
The building lacks heating, the ceiling is leaking,
and temperature fluctuations impact works on display. Despite its aging interior, the Central Exhibition
Hall continues to serve as a key venue for exhibitions and biennales.
A full-scale restoration requires significant
investment. Essential upgrades include modernized heating systems, restored
skylights, functioning restrooms, and accessibility improvements such as
elevators. Yet beyond these practical necessities, preserving the Hall’s original design idea — a unique interplay of light and space — should be a
top priority.
The fate of the Hotel Chorsu (formerly
"Moscow") is one striking
example. A gem of Soviet-era Modernist architecture, it was left in neglect for too
long, leading to irreversible structural damage and the subsequent ultimate
demolition. Likewise, the Palace of Aircaft Manufacturers, now pending renovation for four years, is steadily
deteriorating.
Tashkent’s architectural heritage is at a crossroads.
The Central Exhibition Hall can either be left to decay or restored to its
former glory. In urban planning, as in art, nothing is set in stone.










