In the 1970s and 1980s quite a few Latvian families with young children lived in Brisbane, Australia, but these days the Latvian school has closed down and the twenty- and thirtysomethings have moved elsewhere.

However, a group of five women, all still in their twenties and most raised in the community, are deeply interested in exploring their cultural heritage. About a decade ago they formed a kokle ensemble, now named Zigrīda ansamblis after their first kokle teacher, the late Zigrīda Strazds.

The ensemble draws from the wisdom and melodic influences of their ancestors and creates beautiful sounds that leave the listener entranced and teary, taken off to a land far away and a time long gone.

“Our group doesn’t have a leader as such,” said Valda Biezaite, one of the members. “Each member contributes to our group musically each in their own way, at times composing, helping to work on our compact disc or setting up our Web site.”

Other members include Tija Lodiņa, Jasmīne Lācis-Lee, Eliza Grant and Ance Deksne.

“We’ve been friends from childhood,” Biezaite said. “We went to Latvian school together, started learning to play the kokle together.”

Only one member of the group started out as an “outsider.” She was born in Latvia and moved to Brisbane a few years ago, but is very much one of the girls now.

In the group’s performances the primary instrument is the kokle. However it is often combined with other sounds such as voice and percussion. All five women have a musical education under their belt. Some play the piano, others have played the clarinet and flute in orchestras and other musical groups. The talented young artists have been able to successfully translate their more classical musical training to the arranging and composing of hauntingly beautiful and original Latvian folk melodies.

The group’s purpose is not merely to learn and perform well-known folk tunes. They take it one step further. Group members say they want to explore their cultural heritage by bringing something new and unique to the Latvian repository of folk music (tautas pūrs). Each of the women has been to Latvia at various times over the past decade and whenever they go, they seek out folkloric performances and have met with mentors such as Vilnis Salaks, Māra Vanaga and Iveta Tauriņa, all classical kokle composers and experts. They also have met folklorists such as Artūrs Uškāns, Valdis Muktupāvels, the group Iļģi and Jānis Krūmiņš. All of these leaders in the Latvian folk music world have provided inspiration and improved the group’s technical skill.

“We feel we like to push boundaries in our musical arrangements and performances and we are thankful that the Brisbane community has been very supportive,” Biezaite said.

All members of ensemble are of Latvian descent but their language skills range from native speaker to speaking just a few words of Latvian. All of them have spent some time learning the language, though.

“The group prides itself in taking every effort not to allow the language obstacle to hinder the group’s activities,” Biezaite said. “Despite the language barrier that some of us have, each of us has keenly explored what it is to be Latvian as individuals, and are proud to belong to the community in Australia.”

Zigrīda ansamblis doesn’t restrict its performances to the Latvian community. It has also performed at multicultural events in the wider Brisbane community, even at a wedding recently. The size of the group varies, depending on who’s available to play at the time. During the past few years, the ensemble has been discovered by the interstate Latvian-Australian community. Kultūras dienas, the cultural festival in Melbourne at the end of this year, will be another place to again “push boundaries.”

It gets dark at 5 p.m. these days in Melbourne. Every morning the chill in the air is more and more noticeable. You can see your breath billow out in front of you when you go outside before the sun has started to warm the land. Even though most of the European trees have now shed all their leaves the Australian natives are still green as always.

Although it feels cold (no, never as cold as in Latvia or North America; the temperature rarely drops below -5C), by looking at the countryside you wouldn’t know that it is midwinter because the bush as well as the towns and cities are still primarily green. That’s except for the Australian Alps where the gum-trees will soon have a white cover (yes, it does actually snow in Australia).

To Latvians living in Melbourne this only means winter is well and truly here and that it’s time to start getting ready for the annual Jāņi celebrations as they have for the past 50-odd years.

It’s not that easy to go out in the meadow to pick fresh summer wildflowers to make your vainags (flower garland), like you would in Latvia. Some of the native bottle-brushes, grevilleas and gum trees are still in flower, though, but most Latvians still prefer to make their vainagi from more traditional European flowers. That’s why most of us would head to the nearest florist’s for our vainagi ingredients.

The men, if they’re lucky, can have their traditional oak leaf vainagi, as some of the oak trees, surprisingly enough, still have their leaves.

Some adventurous Latvians have been known to make their vainagi from eucalyptus leaves. The traditional decorating of the premises for Jāņi has often been done with branches from the gum tree branches instead of the birch, the customary Latvian pušķošanas plant.

This brings us to the celebrations themselves. If they’re happening out in the bush (as they do annually at the Latvian scout and guide camp premises “Tērvete” near Kilmore, an hour’s drive north of Melbourne) then Jāņu svinēšana is usually begun at about lunchtime, so that the bulk of the celebrating can be done during daylight hours. As it gets dark at 5 p.m. the remainder of this fun night has to be continued in darkness. The bonfire takes on a whole new meaning. It is a source of light as well as warmth for the revellers or Jāņu bērni. Everyone rugs up in a couple of layers of clothing for this celebration that takes place on the longest night of the year.

I’m sure the format of the celebrations is similar to those in other countries where Latvians have resided for 50 years and have formulated their own recipe for this annual festival. Usually song sheets are printed where the format of the celebrations is spelt out: first the coming together of the Jāņu bērni (Jāņu guests) and the mājinieki (the locals), then the apdziedāšanās (sex-segregated singing of līgo songs where the men make fun of the women and vice-versa) and then the rejoining of the groups where everyone promises to live together happily for the rest of the year. This, of course, is very simplistic, as other traditions such as the blessing of the house and farm could be part of this format, as could songs about the taste of the cheese and pīrāgi made by the hostess or the quality of the beer brewed by the host. And then we mustn’t forget the search for the mythical papardes zieds (fern blossom). We’ve never really found out if it blooms in the middle of winter.

One great thing about celebrating Jāņi during midwinter is that wearing your national costume may be the best decision you’ve made that year. All those woollen clothes and shawls will certainly keep you warm! Of course, there’s the other extreme in December when we celebrate Christmas in midsummer: 40C+ and flies everywhere! But that’s another story…