Another unseasonably warm day in Dushanbe saw me seeking some contacts which I had been told to visit by colleagues at the IIS. Having the street address is no guarantee of finding a place in Dushanbe however, even when you can find the street on not one but two maps. Having searched for over 40 minutes for it, and just as I was giving up, I came across an entrance which was also not on either of my two maps. Intrigued, I ventured in, running the gauntlet of the policemen and other young men hanging out.
It was the main entrance to a park, the Botanical Gardens as I worked out. I was struck by the kitschness of it, and the way it combined into a fantastic pastiche the Islamic and ancient Iranian pre-Islamic styles, evoking a multifaceted past; underlined by the medallions of ancient kings which lined the walls. An Islamic dome topped this grand entrance covered with a weaving geometric interlacing snaking its way round the curved surface in blues, whites and golds. Beneath the dome are reliefs in plaster of standard bearers and archers known from Achaemenid Persepolis in south-west Iran. Although their empire never truly stretched up this far into Transoxiania, the Tajik state seems to have appropriated this design and past history as its own.
The figures are surrounded by a border of golden rosettes. This is an even more ancient symbol, used by ancient Sumer during the Uruk period in the 4th millennium BCE. It has been reused and reworked throughout the centuries, where it often is taken to mean fertility. The rosette is also seen over and over again on Samanid pottery thousands of years after it was first seen.
Also interesting are the rulers which have been elevated to mark this monument. Jamshid is in there, Darius, Kourosh Kabir, Vakshounvard, Ismoil Somoni, Anoushiramen Adel, Spitamen, Timour Malik, Sherak, Dewashtich, Moghana and Vaase.
It is noteworthy that Timur Malik, better known to the Western world as Tamurlaine is in there, as he is a king which today is strongly associated with the neighbouring, and not too friendly, Uzbek nation.
Karoush Kabir in turn is better known to us as the 6th century BCE ruler Cyrus the Great,who was famous for his ideas about human rights as well as his treatment of the Jews. The Cyrus cylinder is in the British Museum, but was promised to Iran on loan. This hasn't happened yet, as they said that they have found two more fragments in a drawer, connected to the cylinder that they need to research first. One can only hope that the cylinder does make it to Iran eventually.
Spitamenes was a Sogdian warlord, who lead an uprising of Bactria and Sogdia against Alexander the Great. His daughter Apamea married Alexander's general Seleucius who eventually went on to found a dynasty of his own. Spitamen has also given his name to a first division Tajik football team!
Dewastwich was the last king of Sogdia before the Arab invasion. So in these reliefs Ismoil Somoni keeps company both with his spiritual kingly forefathers and rulers who came after him.
An upper frieze is supported by columns with double griffin headed protomes or capitals, which are also famously found in Persepolis.
It would be very interesting to find out who designed and commissioned this entrance and when it was built, certainly since independence. However the Botanical Gardens must be much older, and must date to at least the mid 20th century, judging from the maturity of the trees. It is really beautiful, and no wonder it is beloved of newly wedsas a location to have their photos taken, I even saw a couple today, on a Monday afternoon.
It is a wonderful, relaxing and peaceful place to wander, reminding me almost of an English park with bandstands and benches in amongst the carefully tended wildness. I will certainly be back.
Later that day I went to the Maierkovsky theatre to the opening night of a week of EU cultural events in Dushanbe hosted by the Swiss Development Cooperation and the Bactria Centre among others. The Minister of Culture was there, as was the French Ambassador. That made the security more understandable, as our bags were checked and the men were scanned. It was interesting seeing the kind of people who made it out to the theatre on a Dushanbe Monday night (the city’s name of course, means Monday, being called after a Monday market, which is what the town was known for before the Russians made it into a capital of their new Autonomous Republic).
After all the introductions and on-stage back slapping, the performance was unusual. The language was Russian, however there were English and French subtitles, hard to see from where I was sitting. There was one woman on stage railing at the world. The pace seemed unchanging, and there did not seem to be any flow, continuity or conclusion to the piece or resolution to her state of mind. Intermittently she spun around, whooping and laughing or crying out. The piece ended with a man playing a tabla and singing a heartfelt melody. Although I did not know what to expect, I certainly still don’t know what to make of it. I don’t think I was the only one, as a fair few people left throughout the performance. The piece was called White Blood.
So finally back home, Dushanbe is quiet at night. I only got home at 8.30 however the streets were noticeably more empty and transport harder to find. Later I tell G about my failure to find the office I was looking for, and she says no wonder, it is completely in the back streets behind the medical centre and very easy to miss.
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