Time Travel Through the Lens: Revisiting 1906-1908 with Carl Gustaf Emil Mannerheim

Amid Baku’s vibrant art scene, where new exhibitions are unveiled almost weekly, one in particular has managed to stand out. What draws the crowds is not bold colors or avant-garde concepts, but rather the sepia tones of century-old photographs, still brimming with the vivid essence of a bygone era.

The exhibition, titled “Across Asia—From West to East: Photographs Taken by Carl Gustaf Emil Mannerheim from 1906 to 1908,” invites visitors to journey through the eyes of a man who was both an explorer and a spy, a soldier and a scholar. As you step into the gallery, the images open up a world seen by very few — a world of lost cultures and fleeting moments, captured through Mannerheim’s field camera lens.

This is not just an exhibit of old photographs. It is a historical narrative that brings to life the sights and sounds of a turbulent period. The story begins in 1906, when Mannerheim, then a 38-year-old colonel in the Russian Imperial Army, was dispatched on an ambitious military-geographical expedition. His mission: to gather intelligence on the political and military situation along the Russian-Chinese border, a region rife with tension and intrigue. But Mannerheim’s journey far exceeded the expectations of his military superiors.

Starting from Saint Petersburg, Mannerheim traveled by train to Baku, where he crossed the Caspian Sea to begin his 14,000-kilometer trek that ultimately ended in Beijing. Along the way, he traversed deserts and mountain passes, crossing lands rarely trodden by European feet. Initially accompanied by the French Sinologist Paul Pelliot, he eventually continued the expedition with a small team of trusted aides.

While the collection of political intelligence was his primary task, Mannerheim’s keen anthropological eye transformed the journey into a far deeper exploration of the human condition. He meticulously documented the lives of the people he encountered — their customs, their homes, their way of life. The resulting photographs are more than just records; they are artistic portrayals that capture the spirit of a region at a pivotal moment in its history.

There’s something mesmerizing in the images of nomadic families posing with their livestock, traders navigating harsh terrain, and Buddhist monks performing ancient rituals. These are the faces of people whose traditions have since withered or been altered by the winds of time and shifting geopolitical borders. A century later, many of these cultures have been irreversibly changed, making Mannerheim’s work a precious window into a vanishing world.

“His collection of photographs is a remarkable fusion of artistic mastery and ethnographic documentation,” says Samira Guliyeva, a scholar specializing in art photography. “Mannerheim captured not just what he saw, but also what he felt. There’s genuine empathy in his work that goes beyond mere observation.”

Indeed, Mannerheim’s photographs, initially confined to military reports, gradually gained recognition as visual treasures. Despite the colonial undertones often accompanying European expeditions of that era, his portrayal of Central Asia and China reveals a complexity and depth that avoids simple narratives.

The exhibition also sheds light on Mannerheim’s multifaceted role during his two-year journey. He was not just an officer following orders but also a man of science, collecting archaeological artifacts and ancient manuscripts along the way. His legacy, therefore, is as much intellectual as it is visual. Today, Mannerheim’s photographs stand as a testament to the intersections of history, art, and anthropology.

“The images resonate with the viewer because they are more than historical documents,” explains Guliyeva. “They tell stories — stories of resilience, tradition, and change. Through these photographs, we see how people lived, how they adapted, and how they held onto their identities in an ever-changing world.”

The collection, which was once a mere appendix to Mannerheim’s military report, lay largely forgotten until its rediscovery and subsequent exhibitions in various cities since the early 2000s. Now, as it continues to travel, it not only pays tribute to the man behind the camera but also to the countless lives that flicker, if only briefly, in each frame.

Walking through the exhibition and pausing at each photograph to take in the details — the gaze of a young boy in a remote Kyrgyz village, the intricate embroidery on a Kazakh woman’s dress, the serenity of a monk amidst the chaos of a market square — viewers, in a sense, travel through time.

“Each image is a chapter,” reflects Guliyeva. “Together, they form a book that brings history back to life.”

In a world increasingly defined by rapid change, Mannerheim’s work serves as a reminder of the enduring presence of the past, urging us to look closer, understand deeper, and appreciate the complexity of human history that stretches across time and space.

As the exhibition in Baku draws visitors from across the city and beyond, it’s clear that Mannerheim’s journey — both physical and photographic — still resonates, offering not just a glimpse into a distant past but a profound reflection on what it means to document, explore, and, ultimately, remember.