Yulia Drobova: A City Is Not a Collection of Monuments

On one of the book’s spreads, a grandfather drinks tea on a topchan in the courtyard of a house. A flatbread lies on the table, and galoshes have been taken off and placed by the topchan. The text says nothing about them, but it is precisely such details that make a Tashkent courtyard recognisable at first glance. They are what Yulia Drobova’s book “Hello, Tashkent!” is made of.

Photo: press service of the Republican Children’s Library

The book was published in 2025 in Russian, Uzbek and English with the support of the Uzbekistan Culture and Art Development Foundation and the Republican Children’s Library. Its heroine, a little bird called Gorlyashka, spends one day in the city, flying from the children’s library to Amir Temur Square, the Ankhor canal, Chorsu bazaar and an evening park. The book is intended for readers aged six and over, but adults recognise their city in it just as children do.

We spoke to Yulia Drobova about how the route took shape, how a drawing differs from a Wikipedia entry, and why a fresh look at the familiar is a source of great joy.

The Bird’s Route

— In the book, alongside Tashkent’s famous places, there are a mahalla, a courtyard, the Ankhor canal, the metro and a bazaar. On what principle did you choose what would go into the route?

— From my own experience. I was born in Tashkent, and a significant part of my life has been spent here. There are far more places that I know well and love than one book can hold, so I had to choose. What remained were the addresses that are especially important to me and that come together into a single route. These are my memories, the things I can talk about.

Photo: press service of the Republican Children’s Library

The first place the bird finds herself is the children’s library, almost opposite the house where I was born. Then she takes the metro to Pakhtakor, a bus along the Ankhor, and reaches Chorsu. This bazaar is huge, like a mini-universe; a separate book could be made about it. All of these are familiar and beloved routes of mine.

— Which places did you want to include but had to leave out of the book?

When the list of places, traditions and people was approved, I was pleased. But when the book had already gone to print, I remembered Ming Urik, an archaeological site in the city centre, near the railway station. An amazing place that I very much wanted to talk about.

— Is Gorlyashka’s route a path that can be followed on a map, or rather a movement through your memories and associations? How did you build the sequence of the pages?

It can be followed, but not in its entirety: at some point we make a leap. The day begins in the library and in the courtyard of a private house where a traditional way of life prevails. Then Gorlyashka flies into Amir Temur Square and on the way admires the Hotel Uzbekistan, one of the buildings of Tashkent modernism. She takes the metro to Pakhtakor, then a bus along the Ankhor embankment to Chorsu and the mahallas of the old city. From the mahallas she flies to the Museum of Applied Arts, and from there the Alisher Navoi Theatre is just a stone’s throw away. The day ends in an evening park, when the coloured lights come on.

Photo: press service of the Republican Children’s Library

A bird can allow herself leaps and can look at the city from above. Along the way her route grows thick with encounters with city dwellers: animals, birds and people, while the main line is interrupted by comics and stories about characters and traditions. The result is not a monotonous journey but a lively and logical one.

The TV Tower Without Wikipedia

— How did you seek a balance between the Tashkent usually shown to tourists and the city of everyday life?

This is not a tourist guide, although the book can serve that role too. It is the story of a little bird who spends one day in the city, and that day is governed by her habits and abilities: she can walk on the ground, and she can take flight. Gorlyashka’s character reveals my own way of looking: noticing small things, letting some pass by, and lingering over what matters to me. This is an artistic choice. We did not set ourselves the task of informing the reader about every landmark.

— What can a child understand about the city through a courtyard, a canal or a metro station that a TV tower or a museum alone cannot tell?

The TV tower has a function and specifications: weight, number of supports, height, a weather station. That is easy to read on Wikipedia. I try instead to give an object a cosy appearance. There is a restaurant at the top: you can look down at the city, listen to a violinist and eat a pastry. Such a detail awakens curiosity, and for me as an artist it matters no less than the facts in a guide’s account.

Photo: press service of the Republican Children’s Library

Or the mosaic by the Zharsky brothers on the end wall of a high-rise building, a work of monumental art. Nearby we meet representatives of Tashkent’s fauna that can be found beneath this building. A city is not a collection of monuments but living people, animals and famous characters who lived and live here. The book is my way of awakening interest. A museum also has a spread devoted to it: visiting one is very interesting.

— How did you decide which details of a building to keep in a drawing so that the building could be recognised, and which to simplify for a child’s perception? I am especially interested in how you depicted Tashkent modernism, for example the Hotel Uzbekistan or the Zhemchug residential building.

I did not adapt anything to the reader’s age. The task was an artistic one, and it was rather my style that adjusted to the buildings themselves. Drawn, they had to remain recognisable and convey the features that matter to me. I worked in my own manner and did not set out to document every detail.

Photo: press service of the Republican Children’s Library

How the Book Is Put Together

— In the book, watercolour is combined with hand lettering and a carefully considered composition of spreads. How did you, together with the editor and designer, look for the visual rhythm? What was meant to hold a child’s gaze, and what was meant to help them move on?

Before starting on each spread, we plan the narrative and draw a storyboard. That way you can immediately see how full and varied the spreads are, how the book is structured and what its logic is.

There are no unique laws here, but the book has two graphic languages, and thanks to this the reader does not get tired. The comics and notes about famous Tashkent residents are done in two colours, black and ochre - plus the white of the paper. When the reader moves on to a comic, they automatically focus, and the narrative does not become monotonous. At the top of a spread there is most often the name of the location. Such "tricks" add up to a system, and the book is interesting to look at.

I dare to think that adults find it no less interesting, especially those who already know these places. My interest in and feeling for what I draw are passed on to the person holding the book.

- The book is intended for readers aged six and up. How did you distribute the material between text and illustrations?

Photo: press service of the Republican Children's Library

Everything must be clear to children who have only just learned to read. The basis is the illustration, there is little text, and it is simple. These are selected facts that seemed to me the most curious: for example, that the Museum of History of Uzbekistan holds an ancient Saka cauldron or a skeleton more than one and a half million years old. The picture always predominates, and there is always a free margin around the text so that it is easy to take in.

The book has one magical quality: every time you see something new in it. Perhaps you will recognise a squirrel that has just run past you in the yard. Or perhaps you will wonder why something is not in it. Everyone reads it in their own way.

- The book has been published in Russian, Uzbek and English. How did you preserve, in the different versions, the local names and words that carry the particular character of Tashkent?

I wrote in Russian, and then two wonderful translators worked on the book: they translated and adapted the text. I liked all the versions of the name Gorlyashka. It is hard for me to judge the linguistic subtleties.

Photo: press service of the Republican Children's Library

- What is easier to show with a drawing than to explain in text?

For me it is essential that there should be nothing in the text that is not supported by a picture. But a drawing may well contain things that are not in the text: they support it and make it richer. There are many such examples in the book. Describing a courtyard, I mention the topchan, the little table, the fruit trees. There is no flatbread in the text, but we see it on the table and the tea drinking immediately becomes recognisable. And by the topchan I "left" a pair of taken-off galoshes. I hope such details will amuse someone.

The Artist's Eye

- What does accessibility of such a book for a child mean to you: clear language, the chance to look at it independently, the price, access in libraries?

I hope the language of the book really is clear, and that is my responsibility as the author. I thought about making sure children do not drown in historical facts and do notice big and small details. As for the price and access in libraries, that is the publisher's task, not something I deal with.

Photo: press service of the Republican Children's Library

- If, after the book, a child goes out to walk around Tashkent with a camera or a sketchbook, what would you suggest they look at?

If, after reading, a child takes an interest in at least one place in the city, the task is done. And if they also take a camera or a voice recorder and dictate their thoughts, so much the better.

You can simply walk around your building, but look at the familiar with a curious rather than a jaded eye. Write or shoot a photo essay about your street, your neighbourhood, and there will certainly be plenty of interesting things there.

We get used to the everyday picture. But if you switch on the artist's eye, look from different sides and notice the small things, then perhaps other people will want to look at the city through your eyes.