In the late 1990s, the artists of Buryatia developed a growing tendency of self-identification with the painterly, decorative and graphic traditions of their ethnic culture, a feature that can equally be true of other regions of Russia. In the lands of the Transbaikalia this tendency implies introduction of features reminiscent of the imagery of Buddhism and Shamanism. If you could only imagine how long-lasting and deeply rooted are the two in the making of the artistic forms and genres this region originated, how complicated are the ties of the neighbouring cultures which happened to influence the traditional Buryat art, you would come to the conclusion that the birth of such art phenomenon as we witness today was inevitable. It was preconditioned by ‘freedom of choice’ the artists who live at the turn of the twenty-first century must enjoy. The new art demonstrates a combination of such features as symbolism of imagery, decorative and archetypical character of design and an avant-garde style. This free expression of artistic individuality has been most graphically demonstrated by Dashi Namdakov, an exceptionally talented sculptor representing ethnic-minority cultures in today’s Russia. Looking extraordinary and spectacular, his works of art have been a great success both in the cultural centres of Siberia, and in the major museums of Russia, as well as abroad. Dashi Namdakov’s exhibits held in different art museums make one think that time has come when the new art begins to have an influence on both professionals – artists and art critics – and art viewers. The former group demonstrates two levels of reception: curiosity and ‘lack of true comprehension’. It seems as is they were baffled looking at the works of art from another planet, which they are trying to understand but cannot because they seem absolutely alien. As for the viewers, their reaction is mainly emotional. They rather respond to the novelty of the exotic Oriental sculpture. Understanding little in the meaning of the Oriental symbols, the viewer often accepts and responds to the powerful magnetism of the art studying the new system of proportions that derives from a different anthropological type, the expressive force of a super-dynamic creation of new forms and the stylistic devices conveying figurative associations of unknown characters. Getting involved in the dialogue of different cultures, the European viewer has a chance not only to see, but also to grasp the meaning of some elements of the Oriental mentality and introduce various aspects of the latter in the context of the European culture. The importance of such interaction for the modern Russian culture (or European one, in its wider implication) lies in development of respect and ability to appreciate any form of the aesthetic – genuine love for nature, man, human history. Artistic language has no limits in perception and identification. The genres of Dashi’s work, presenting a rich alloy of traditional Oriental symbols, are, at the same time, much wider, which is most conspicuous in his small sculptures, which are his favourite genre, and in his animalistic ones. They are like ‘coded Oriental philosophy’. Dashi’s work is a whole world of images from the historical past of the nomadic Buryat people, associated both with wars and peaceful life, with its traditional lifestyle, unchangeable for centuries and practical. Every character of the rich ‘palette’ of Dashi’s world plays a role in the multi-serial film, or performance, where, beside his (or her) immediate looks, the character enables the viewer to feel, or guess, the character’s former history or, possibly, future. For example, The Old Warrior wearing heavy armour lives in his past, his iron clothes shows a man tired of life. The old soldier makes your imagination bring back pictures of his former gallant life full of epic battles. The patina on his weapon reminds you of its former shining and victories. So detailed and careful is the work of the artist on this character. Figuratively, his Chenghis Khan, a key sculpture in the work of the artist, looks extremely convincing. The influence of the Buddhist traditional sculpture is evident. ‘The lessons of the past’ are also conspicuous in The Archer. The whole attitude, the legs and arms are as dynamic as those of the furious gods of the Lamaist pantheon copied from Buddhist scrolls who are storming in a dance of rage over sinful non-believers. The lifestyle in the steppe often makes a person behave and move like an animal, which can be seen in the plasticity of The Running Man. Trying to convey the desire of the warrior to become indistinct on the ground, invisible despite the huge armour and weapon, the artist makes him look like a sinuous mutant of an insect. The transformation is happening right in front of our eyes… The Planet named the Steppe lives according to the laws of nature. He who lives in such environment becomes part of the world’s harmony. He gets up with the sun, does everyday routine, departs to his dreams at sunset. He performs the rituals dedicated to the spirits who inhabit the surrounding space. He eats ‘white’ food and makes gifts to gods by shedding drops of milk on the fire. Even now, immersed in the life of the modern civilization, getting scientific knowledge about the surrounding world, an in-born inhabitant of the steppe always feels nature as part of his own self. Romanticism in the work of Dashi Namdakov, who was born in the Transbaikalian steppe, is based on folk traditions, on the poetic and mythological mentality of the local people. It is within the boundaries of the latter that Namdakov’s true reality lies. That is why, in our opinion, the edifice of his whole professional biography is built upon a sophisticated apprehension of beauty that seems natural for a person who was born in the Transbaikalia and narrated in the figurative language of an artist who got a European academic education in art. Animals make up most of Dashi’s work. These sculptures testify to a great influence of the Russian school. You also feel presence in them of Asiatic mythology that traditionally imparts animals with sacred meaning. In the past, animal imagery built up a bridge across the huge territories of Europe and Asia, enhancing with zoological topics the fine arts of the Scythians and the peoples of Siberia, joining the pre-historical and historical eras. Animals and fantastic creatures became symbols of freedom, migration, eternity of time, appearing again and again in the arts of all the peoples inhabiting the vast territories of the steppe. In the history of art animalism was the first world-wide artistic style full of globally important meaning. Depicting various species or subjects typical of his ethnic culture, the sculptor usually transforms them into symbolic animals endowed with some kind of magic qualities: they are either man’s guardians, defenders and protectors of home or creatures from unknown worlds, which do exist, according to beliefs of the Buryats professing Buddhism or Shamanism. That is why it is sometimes difficult to identify this or that sculptured creature with a particular animal even if the creature bears certain features of a really existing one. The characters’ types are compelling, emotionally meaningful and exceptionally expressive. Their attitude, although visibly static, looks very dynamic. Apparent motionless, they make us feel a powerful effort of their inner transformation. One of the most striking sculptures in Dashi’s work is associated with the mythological primogenitor of the Buryat ancestors, Bull Bukha-Noion. The legend has it that the marriage of the Bull and a human woman gave birth to the first people who lived at the foot of the East Sayan mountains. That is why the people saw their progenitor endowed with invincible power, striking beauty and dignity. Dashi made this legendary Bull look as if a real Paleolithic fresco performed by a primitive painter on the wall of a cave. The Bull moving with his titanic power looks as a phenomenon of extraterrestrial nature, a kind of shifting tectonic plate. In Its Element brings forth a perfect image of a flying horse, which conveys the idea of a dashing advancement, the excitement of freedom, bewitching grace and power. In Its Element is a symbol of man’s soaring spirit. A horse, as a phenomenon, unharnessed, obeying only its own sense of natural expediency is flying across the steppe being the embodiment of the constant advance forward. It follows the symbolic archetype of the Scythian ‘flying deer’ that used to imply the inevitable change of seasons and coming of a new phase in the nature’s cycle. The Wind of the Steppe reproduces a fragment of a ram’s body and, strange as it may seem considering the name, it looks static. Despite that, the blindness of the ram’s eyes, the whole look of the animal speaks of adamant strength. The spirit of the steppe itself, wise and fearsome, seems to be embodied in this creature. Having known rubs and worries of life, the ram’s horn, convoluted into a spiral, as well as its empty eye-pits, testify to a long struggle for survival. Many of Dashi’s works are devoted to the theme of divine sacrifice. Thus, Mode’s Horse and another one, Sete, are both beautiful in their bodily fatigue and in their proud docility to the fate of being sacrifice animals. The nomadic peoples are known to have had the cult of animals which were worshipped, but which, under certain circumstances, were to be sacrificed to the spirits for the sake of a great idea. The bent heads and strong bodies of the horses hint at the whole epochs of wars with victories and defeats. The Guardian is full of phantasmagoria and mysticism. The figure of a lioness is presented with sharp, blade-like wings menacingly sticking out behind the beast’s back. Showing her sharp teeth and claws the lioness demonstrates her clear determination to defend her offspring furiously. This trick of ‘deterrence as self-defence’ was traditionally used in the Shamanic symbolic plasticity of the Ongons, as well as in depicting the infuriated Buddhist gods who preserved the beliefs alive. The Guardian and The Genius are archetypical in their polymorphism combining characteristic features of different kind of creatures. Despite their fantastic appearance, they look quite realistic in Dashi’s gallery of animals. Apis brings to mind the image of the bull at Memphis as the legendary symbol of fertility. The artists might have made an allusion to the ancient Egyptian mythological character and bring it on the Asiatic soil as reminiscence of the totemic animal that allegedly inhabited the branches of the Sayan mountains. But the artist adds some specific details which enhance associations with astral ‘elements’: the withers grow into a powerful fin of a shark, or, possibly, another archaic sea predator; the bull’s tail transforms into flexible forms of a gigantic insect. The sculptural plasticity of the phantasmagorical body is so convincing that you cannot help believing in its possible existence in reality. The language of He and She is even more avant-garde. The originality of their imagery can be referred to as a kind of zoo-anthropomorphous symbolic code combining features of an animal and a human. The plasticity, play of rhythms and proportions help to create a kind of communication between the two figures involving them in a perpetual dance. Very attractive is Dashi Namdakov’s gallery of skulls of the creatures that allegedly used to inhabit the steppe. In the artist’s conception they are also images of the steppe where you can always find the remains of dead animals, which either used to live in its broad expanses, or accidentally – maybe with some reason – found themselves in the steppe. The contemporary local herdsmen are not disgusted at coming across these traces of former life, but take them as either an everyday event, or in a philosophic sense: a skull is considered to be the hold of the soul. Dashi, admiring the beauty of the skull’s form, makes it more sophisticated. In one case, the artist combines the skull of a lynx with a fossil shell (In-yan). In another case, he decorates a small dainty skull with mammoth’s tusks making it resemble the remains of an insect. The huge bronze skull with enormous empty eye-pits strikes you with the implication of how big must have been the brain and intellect inside it. The master has a good knowledge of the styles of the 20th century and he knows how to use them. But he also tries to develop and enhance his sense of plasticity so that his sculptures got rid of the set canons of taste and academic conservatism. That is why Dashi Namdakov’s sculptural images encourage us to learn a special ‘primitive’ delicacy, to find a way to see and understand the symbols of nature and to keep them inside for long, preferably for eternity. N.P. Komarova, M.A. in Art History, Ulan-Ude