CHICAGO—Already some song festival participants were dragging their feet when morning came, especially those who had stayed up and out the night before, perhaps forgetting that dance and choir rehearsals began early.

While they prepared for the first big show later in the day, festivalgoers had more opportunity to peruse the arts and crafts fair or take in other events. Among the first was a program focusing on prose and poetry, with readings by a number of well-known Latvian authors. The master of ceremonies was Oļģert Cakars, himself a poet and cofounder of the Latvian Writers Association (Latviešu Rakstnieku apvienība, or LaRA). He introduced the writers and spent a few minutes with each in a mini-interview. Among those presenting were Māra Zālīte, one of modern Latvia’s best known poets and playwrights, and Ingrīda Vīksna, and poet and editor of the Toronto-based weekly Latvian newspaper, Latvija Amerikā.

The sparsely attended Baltic NATO conference nonetheless provided an opportunity to hear a pan-Baltic perspective on the effort to expand the defense alliance.

Although Latvia, Estonia and Lithuania are sure to be invited to join NATO during the upcoming Prague summit, speakers warned that much work will remain. Confirmation by the U.S. Senate won’t come easy, said Jānis Kukainis, chair of the World Federation of Free Latvians. “Russia will continue dumping on us,” he said. The government of President Vladimir Putin has set aside funds to challenge NATO expansion, according to Saulius Kuprys, president of the Lithuanian-American Council.

Several speakers’ comments were focused on lobbying efforts, both within the Baltic communities as well as among state and federal lawmakers. One effort mentioned by Dace Copeland, president of the American Latvian Association, focuses on state legislatures adopting resolutions in support of NATO. To date, only six states have done so.

Valdis Pavlovskis, head of the Baltic American Freedom League, addressed various issues that face Latvia in its bid for NATO membership. Baltic organizations, he said, need to develop a strategy for confronting concerns such as perceptions of anti-Semitism and government corruption in Latvia, sticking points that could damage the nation’s NATO bid.

The morning was capped off with a program of spiritual music performed at the 4th Presbyterian Church.

However, the big event of the day was the festival folk dance performance in the UIC Pavilion. Technology and tradition merged as a large screen displayed various video feeds of dancers in action (including one bird’s eye view looking straight down) while the folk groups Jūrmalnieki and Lini provided live music for the three-hour program.

With a theme titled “Deju laika solī” (Steps In Time), the performance showcased 29 folk dances. Among them was “Dodamies uz Rīgu,” the all-around winner of the new choreography competition held July 19 (see sidebar). Other dances included favorites such as “Ačkups,” “Jūŗa, jūŗa” and “Vidzemes polka,” which saw an encore.

A total of 30 groups with more than 600 folk dancers participated in the show. Ilmārs Bergmanis, chair of the song festival organizing committee, later estimated that 9,500 people attended the performance.

While some rushed back to downtown Chicago for the second performance of the musical “Lolitas brīnumputns”—perhaps spurred by glowing word-of-mouth reviews—others trudged back to their hotel rooms to cool off before the evening’s two balls.

The two balls were held on two different floors of the Marriott Hotel, connected by escalators. On the fifth floor was the official festival ball, with music provided by Los Pintos. The ball, which started at 9 p.m., was heavy on polkas and slow dances.

Meanwhile, the youth dance on the seventh floor had to wait until 11 p.m. to get started as the Latvian rock group Prāta vētra (BrainStorm) dealt with sound checks and other technical issues. Even then, it was clear that the ballroom was no place for a rock band. BrainStorm seemed quiet and reserved, compared to the band’s performance the night before in The Metro.

Despite the heat in the room, young fans who had never seen the band play live appeared happy to be there.

CHICAGO—Early in the Čikāgas Piecīši concert July 19, lead singer Alberts Legzdiņš noted the various events that were competing for attention during the 11th Latvian Song Festival in Chicago.

Festival attendees with children, he observed, had headed to Navy Pier for the song festival picnic. Educated Latvians, meanwhile, had gone to the fraternities and sororities ball. And those without kids or education, Legzdiņš quipped, had come to the Čikāgas Piecīši concert.

Friday certainly was a full day. And no doubt some attendees learned that the slow pace of the morning gave way to a much more active program in the afternoon and evening, so much so that it’s not possible to take in everything. One wonders how festival participants, those hundreds of dancers and singers whose rehearsals begin early in the morning, get to see much of Chicago or take in song festival events such as the musical “Lolitas brīnumputns.” The musical is based on a story by Latvian writer Anna Brigadere. The performance was directed by Valdis Lūriņs from Latvia; music was written and arranged by Andrejs Jansons of New York.

As the weekend approached more people arrived. Soon an ebb and flow was noticeable, as attendees congregated in the Marriott Hotel to visit the arts and crafts fair and other exhibit areas, only to disperse to locations such as the UIC Pavilion to view the contemporary folkdance performance or to Symphony Center to listen to the men’s choir—both events inconveniently scheduled miles apart at 1:30 p.m.

A few breaks in the day allowed quick exploration of nearby Chicago shops and sights, including a litle piece of Rīga set into the exterior of the Tribune Tower.

The arts and crafts fair, as always, presented itself in part as a gauge of the ethnic economy. If this fair was an indication, then businesses catering to Latvian interests are not doing too bad, even as the American economy remains tentative. Amber and silver jewelry, bumper stickers, books, compact discs and cassettes, software, newspaper subscriptions, videotapes and T-shirts proclaiming “Man garšo alus” and “Latvia: Where the storks are storks and the frogs are nervous” were among items available for purchase.

One big evening event was a belated 40th anniversary concert by Čikāgas Piecīši. Concertgoers heard many favorites from the ensemble, some performed by former band members such as Janīna Ankipāne. The group also offered several comedy skits, including one ribbing the Latvian newspaper Laiks for small type size that’s increasingly difficult to read for its aging audience. The newspaper has transferred editorial operations to Rīga and changed its format. Both the weekly newspaper’s publisher, Dace Rudzīte, and co-editor, Ligita Kovtuna, attended the song festival.

Meanwhile, those interested in rock music rather than schlager had to travel many miles north to The Metro, a club on North Clark Street, to listen to local Latvian band Adam Zahl and, in its first American concert, BrainStorm (Prāta vētra).

BrainStorm only took the stage about 1 a.m. and quickly became a crowd-pleaser. However, when lead singer Renārs Kaupers began to speak in English, he was shouted down by concertgoers chanting “Lat-vis-ki! Lat-vis-ki!” (In Latvian! In Latvian!). BrainStorm played a set that included a number of hits, including new songs such as “Waterfall” and the older favorite “Lidmašinas.” Among those in attendance was Ojārs Kalniņš, former Latvian ambassador to the United States and now director of the Latvian Institute in Rīga, who managed to find one of the best vantage points in the club: in the balcony directly overlooking the stage.

BrainStorm drummer Kaspars Roga, who just celebrated his birthday, was honored with a round of “Daudz baltu dieniņu.”

Despite the busy schedule, it was a satisfying day that ended much too early—or much too late.

CHICAGO—The first day of the 11th Latvian Song Festival in the United States was a day in part defined by generations.

For older Latvians—those past their teenage years—events such as the opening ceremony and the get-acquainted dance served as venues for reacquaintance. For the younger generations, the events seemed to be part of the ritual of growing up Latvian in a strange world.

The festival runs from Thursday, July 18, through Sunday, July 21.

Late at night, watching the clusters of Latvians gathered inside and outside the Grand Ballroom of the Marriott Hotel in downtown Chicago, one would frequently observe sudden exclamations of recognition, followed by handshakes and hugs. These were the older Latvians seeing people they had not seen for a few years, perhaps not since the last song festival in the United States. The folk bands Jūrmalnieki from Colorado and Lini from Minnesota, who were overseeing the danču un rotaļu vakars, faced stiff competition from people just wanting to chat.

Meanwhile, younger Latvians roamed the halls, some trying to impress members of the opposite sex, others looking for fun. They deserved their liberty, especially the many dozens who came from the Gaŗezers summer high school near Three Rivers, Mich. They had arrived in the early afternoon and had gone straight to rehearsal for the 5 p.m. opening ceremony. It was not until about 7 p.m. that they finally were free to explore the hotel and the streets of Chicago.

It’s difficult to say yet how many Latvians will attend this song festival. Certainly the numbers will be down from the song festival’s glory days of earlier decades. Certainly this song festival will be nothing like the first song festival held in the United States, almost 50 years ago right here in Chicago. But one song festival official offered 3,000 as an estimate. That’s based on the knowledge that about 600 of the Marriott’s 1,179 rooms are reserved by song festivals guests. Other hotels in the area also are housing song festival participants and attendees. For the opening ceremony alone 1,200 chairs were set out, although not all were taken. And the evening concert by the youth choir Kamēr drew an estimated 1,000 ticket holders to the 4th Presbyterian Church.

The first day also saw the opening of three exhibits, one devoted to the history of the song festival movement, one (in the nearby Daley Center) to the Occupation Museum of Latvia, and one to the work of Latvians who have studied at the Art Institute of Chicago. A Latvian folk costume show rounded out the day’s offerings.

Perhaps one of the most fascinating aspects of a song festival in the United States is that for a few brief days a small corner of the country becomes Latvianized. I recall first experiencing this in Milwaukee, Wis. Hearing someone not speaking Latvian was unusual. Here in Chicago, a stroll along North Michigan Avenue didn’t bring quite the same experience, but you still had to be careful about what and whom you talked about. Latvian could not be a secret language.

North Michigan Avenue, by the way, is bedecked with song festival banners hanging from streetlights. It’s kind of cool to walk up the street and see them. I wonder if any passers-by have been lured into the festival after seeing them.

But at least it’s a language that still is being used. Surprisingly, we heard plenty of younger Latvians speaking Latvian, just as often as we heard older Latvians switch to English after exchanging pleasantries in Latvian. So much for the generation gap.