A massive herd of goats come trotting across the bridge. Pretty sure they were just relieving themselves in the river that Steve wanted us to bath in. Mike on the other hand was already down the path and in the water enjoying his shower. Rachel and I looked at each other and then down at ourselves. I could scrape the desert sand caked to my body with my fingers. Alright let's do this!
Surprisingly it was extremely refreshing. Steve helped us by using a bowl to pour the water over out heads. Except on problem. He did this without a warning!!! I closed my mouth but not before one large nasty brown water gulp went down my throat. I desperately tried to not think about what I could`ve just swallowed. If the 5 of us who bathed gets sick we know why!
Fresh and kind of clean we entered the town to exchange some money. We had to exchange enough money to pay some upcoming hotel costs. The stack we got by entering the black market was obscene. Multiple bags were used to carry this exchange safely back to our truck.
I also couldn't help myself. I had to snag this nifty broom that everyone uses to sweep the streets and houses with. Maybe I will use it to clean all the desert dust out of the truck with.
A few hours later and we were in our first real functioning town, Nukus. Immediately the architecture stood out. Soviet style buildings blatantly lined the streets. I do not have much experience or knowledge of the Soviet times and this trip is rapidly changing that. One thing I am already certain of is that I am not a fan of the big, cold, cookie cutter buildings.
Our main objective for reaching this town was the Karakalpakstan Savitsky museum, also known as the Nukus Museum. Here in the middle of nowhere Uzbekistan lies the biggest collection of 1930`s Soviet avante garde artwork. Igoe Savitsky was an avid collector of artwork that were technically illegal under the soviet regime. These pieces of art featured emotions that may have expressed sadness as a result of their way of life.
Throughout the years Savitsky began to feverishly collect anything he came across. Famous Soviet artists who were now either painting in secret or had hidden away all of their non conforming artwords were sought out by Mr. Savitsky. He scowere basements and attics asking family members to please allow him to stash each thing he found. His collection began to grow.
Knowing that these would not be safe in Russia or other heavily occupied areas he started to transport them down to Uzbekistan which had become his knew home. The naturally harsh landscaped created an environmental barrier and an unlikely place for a masterpiece collection to be hidden away. Over the years he continued making tris bring piece upon piece. Today more than 90,000 pieces of artwork belong to the collection.
The art museum has garnered more attention over the years. Many believe a lot of these precious painting had fallen victim to the Soviet times. However, here they are in the small town of Nukus in the desert. A piece of history and a time of art once forgotten has been found. The museum has had some ups and downs. Collectors and enthusiasts around the world have tried to get the collection in a more prestigious place. Even the Uzbekistan government questioned its relation to keeping this part of history within their country, a history they wish to move past. Through the time it has stayed and from what I have read begun to grow and upgrade.
Walking around the museum, again I did not know what to expect. Before this trip I had never heard that such a thing even existed. Upon entering the top floor I was drawn in by a few factors. One, the paintings called out to you. Each one had a story behind the painting. My favorite paintings in the place were done by the same artist, Vladimir Lysenko. After painting a captivating bull with a wild look in his eyes he was sent away to a camp for being mentally disturbed. Another painting landed another artist in jail for years. Stories like this followed one after another. Second, these were painted secretly and against the regime. Standing there just knowing that an artist was struggling knowing that what they wanted to paint was not going to conform brought a chill up my back. Third, this is the largest collection yet the preservation of the paintings stands in the hands of ladies setting trays of water beneath the paintings to keep them moist. I suggest anyone who has an interest in Soviet history or in Art history finds a steady car and make the journey to this little gem of a museum.
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