After enjoying Tumsa’s 2000 release, Katram savu Atlantīdu, I picked up their 1997 debut, Putni. I also liked that album, which was far more "hard rock" than Atlantīdu. In terms of musicianship and songwriting, Tumsa had considerably evolved between the two albums. With Nesaprasto cilvēku zemē, it has became apparent that Tumsa is slowly perfecting their craft, making this the best and most consistent release of their career.

The core of the group has always been Mārtiņš Freimanis, who not only provides vocals and plays the acoustic guitar, but is the principal songwriter as well. Rounding out the band are Haralds Drekslers on rhythm and solo guitar, Jānis Daugalis on bass guitar, Kaspars Boroduško on drums and Einārs Kokins on sound. Joining them on this album is Aigars Šmits on keyboards.

Tumsa are first and foremost a rock band, and one of the better examples of that is the opening track "Tā nav lijis," with its catchy and sing-a-long chorus. This song also takes advantage of the presence of the new keyboardist, with the piano providing the hummable main melody.

In a more curious example of their evolution is the song "Tu neesi tāda." The drum beat reminds me of quite a few disco songs, though the song itself is very effective, but perhaps a bit out of place on the album.

Another song that deviates from the regular Tumsa sound is "Lai būtu tā," which sounds like it is from the early days of rock (although with a modernized sound). It reminds me a bit of the song "The Lion Sleeps Tonight," what with its constantly repeating backing vocals. Though it is a deviation from their regular style, this song is also very likable, since it has such a light touch, compared to some of the more serious and heavy songs on the album.

The lyrics on the album are also expansive in their subject matter. One of the more “disturbing” songs on the album is "Šupuldziesma slepkavam," which, as its title suggest, is a rather dark song—a lullaby for a murderer. Freimanis’ lyrics include the line "Guli mans asiņainais draugs" (Sleep my bloody friend).

However, many of the lyrics on the album do go over my head. Sometimes I’m not really quite sure what Freimanis is trying to say in a song, but that did not take away from my enjoyment of the album

My favorite song on the album is probably "Arī man ir sirds." With its great beat and driving rhythm, I think this is destined to be one of the all-time Tumsa classics. I would imagine it would be a hit in concert as well, with its oft-repeated phrase "Ša la la."

One criticism of the album would be that even though Tumsa have nearly perfected their songwriting craft, many of the songs wind up sounding very similar. One might ask, "Why mess with a winning formula?" However, Tumsa seem to be aware of this, judging by some of the afortementioned songs that try to break out of their regular mold.

The most apparent weakness of the Katram savu Atlantīdu was that it had a few too many songs in English (four in total). Perhaps wisely they decided to record every song on this album in Latvian.

Nesaprasto cilvēku zemē is a very solid and highly enjoyable rock record. But I am of the belief that Tumsa have not yet made a truly great album. These guys have incredible talent and I think they have a truly great album in them. In the meantime, Nesaprasto cilvēku zemē should delight all rock fans and help Tumsa reach an even broader audience, something these guys have worked hard to do and of which they are fully deserving.

Juris Podnieks was one of Latvia’s best-known and most successful filmmakers. His accidental death in 1992 was a tremendous loss to Latvian film. Podnieks’ unique combination of talent, determination, skill, courage and incredible ability to motivate others to exceed their limits allowed him to create films that transcended their subject matter. His films are comparable to similar works by such notable documentary filmmakers as Errol Morris and Ken Burns.

In celebration of what would have been his 50th birthday the Latvian film forum Arsenāls put together a CD-ROM in his honor titled Juris Podnieks: The 20th Century As Seen by the Latvian Filmmaker. It is a must-have for all those with an interest in Latvian film and Latvian and Soviet history.

Podnieks and his crew were on the front lines as Latvia and many others nations emerged from the yoke of Soviet occupation. His films captured the tenor of the times and the courage and determination of a people who would not be denied. Is It Easy to be Young? played to packed movie houses all across the Soviet Union and won numerous international awards. It captured the alienation of youth and the banalities of the Soviet Union at a time when to even raise the specter of such issues still carried a great deal of risk. Homeland captured the unraveling of the Soviet Union in vivid detail while chronicling the "singing revolution" in the resurgent Baltic republics. Homeland. Postscript chronicled the nightmarish crackdown by Soviet authorities. Two of his closest friends and collaborators, cameramen Gvīdo Zvaigzne and Andris Slapiņš, were killed in Rīga during filming by OMON troops.

The CD-ROM is full of details about Podnieks the filmmaker and the person, as well as general Latvian history. However, the true standouts are the bits and pieces from Podnieks’ various films. It is impossible to watch them without being affected, both by their strength of vision, and powerful message, and by feeling a profound sense of loss at the death of the man who made them. His death at the age of 42, an age when filmmakers enter their best and most productive years, is still being felt across the Latvian film industry.

You can’t help but be affected by footage of a young man, in Is It Easy to be Young? breaking down in a court room, while a passive monotone voice reads the judgment of the court that sentences him to three years in prison for getting carried away during a rock concert. In We, a series of documentaries on the Soviet Union made by Podnieks for England’s Channel 4, the audience gets a glimpse of the incredible courage that it took to stand up to the Soviets.

In what was either an intentional or unintentional homage to the Odessa steps sequence in Sergei Eisenstein’s The Battleship Potemkin and is eerily similar to a similar event that took place in Tianamen Square years later, a woman runs into the frame and tries to stop armed soldiers from getting down an outdoor staircase to break up a protest in Armenia. In Homeland. PostScript you watch with horror the footage of both Zvaigzne and Slapiņš getting shot as Slapiņš, despite being mortally wounded, exclaims, "Keep filming!"

The only flaws of the CD-ROM are that the text, most likely written by a non-native English speaker, seems stilted and ackward at spots, and that there isn’t more footage of Podnieks’ works. It’s ironic in a way. Podnieks was known for almost never using narration in his films. He allowed the subjects to speak for themselves. It’s a shame that we couldn’t have more of his films on this CD-ROM, and in the future, to do his speaking for him.

The best advertisement for Labrītiņi, rītiņā is our 4-year-old son. He just loves it! He’s fascinated by the songs and rhymes and the children who sing them. Right away he recognized the couple of pieces that were already in our family’s repertoire, and he has since picked up several more. In fact, when the compact disc comes to an end and I go to put in another one, he protests. Every time. Need any more reason to get this recording?

The children singing on Labrītiņi, rītiņā are plain, regular kids, aged about three to six, from a school in Jūrmala, Latvia. Actually, they are all pupils of Ilga Reizniece of the world music band Iļģi. On this recording Reizniece also provides many of the accompaniments, as well as a vocal motherly nudge here and there.

The CD doesn’t sound so much as a performance as it sounds like walking into a room of preschoolers going about their daily activities. They sing songs and tell rhymes, sometimes giggling in between: jājam, jājam mēs ar zirgu… cepu, cepu kukulīti… ar vilciņu Rīgā braucu… dop, dop Rīgā… vāru, vāru putriņu… sitam plaukstiņas… sīkas, mazas meitenītes… kur tad tu nu biji, āzīti manu?… Dievs nosvieda bumbuli zemē… etc.

Labrītiņi, rītiņā does not try to make recording artists out of young children. Just the opposite: the idea behind this project is to have the children and their performance of the songs sound as natural as possible. So, no synthesizers and drum sets. Out-of-tune notes and changes in tempo are forgiven. The shy child is helped along by the teacher. This is not the Rīga Dome Boys’ Choir or the poppy Neparastie rīdzinieki, nor does it try to compare with them.

Instead of the elaborate (and often annoying) arrangements so common on many Latvian children’s recordings, the arrangements on Labrītiņi, rītiņā are appropriately simple and unobtrusive. A kokle here, a guitar there, a quiet whistle or drum is all. The words can be understood fairly well, but all the texts are written in the liner notes so that it’s easy to follow along and learn the songs. The translations are good, with the exception of a couple of odd words. For those who do not know Latvian, the texts will probably often sound silly or senseless. But keep in mind that many of the rhymes are actually little finger or lap games with accompanying motions, kind of like "This little piggy went to market."

Reizniece stresses that folklore is inseparable from everyday life, that folklore is life. She writes: "Folklore has never been a school subject; it’s the very life of our ancestors simply given a foreign name. And if it is not lived daily, but once or twice a week for half an hour, it can remain incomprehensible and unloved." With this recording parents can help to make traditional Latvian songs and rhymes a part of their children’s—and their own—everyday lives.

Although it’s the perfect thing for young children, I honestly don’t know whether I would listen to this CD much if I had no children. That’s probably because I’m just not one of those people who finds young children irresistably cute (except my own, of course!). But, even though I’m not a "cute" person, the cuteness of several of the tracks has really grown on me.

Labrītiņi, rītiņā definitely has children’s appeal. A former Latvian school director I recently spoke to suggested that every Latvian school and family with young children ought to have this CD.