Latvian Television struggles with its leadership

The final weeks of 2003 and the first few of this year have proven to be rough time for the state-funded Latvijas Televīzija (LTV). Uldis Grava, who left behind a career at Radio Free Europe to repatriate and take over running the public television broadcaster, has left LTV to work with Jaunais laiks, the party of Prime Minister Einars Repše. Grava’s last day in LTV’s towering headquarters on Zaķusala was Jan. 16.

Grava took over the reins at LTV in 2002. Although he might have had high hopes of getting the broadcaster in financial and professional shape, he met a lot of resistance from within and without LTV, in part because of misguided scoffing at him being a “foreigner.” It’s no wonder, then, that he decided to get out.

Unfortunately, even his last days were not to be quiet. Grava suggested that his replacement should be one Edgars Kots. LTV staff and media experts cried foul, urging the National Radio and Television Council to require that a search be done for suitable candidates, rather than merely appointing Grava’s heir apparent.

Why the concern? Because Kots has been director of the Rīga-based advertising firm Labvakar, which in turn tied him to Edvīns Inkēns, a former member of parliament and controversial journalist who now is chairman of the board for Latvian Independent Television (LNT). LNT is LTV’s chief rival in Latvia’s tiny broadcast market. Plus, critics pointed out, Kots doesn’t have a university degree, a requirement for the LTV general director’s job.

And, critics also noted, there’s the political subtext. Why should Grava, who is leaving a supposedly apolitical broadcaster to work for the prime minister’s political party, get to choose his successor? Doesn’t that suggest that his successor would be someone who is looked upon favorably by the political powers that be?

Although the radio and TV council decided Jan. 8 that it will conduct a search for Grava’s replacement, it nonetheless on Jan. 15 approved Kots, rather than LTV News Director Gundars Rēders, as acting general director. The council’s tie vote was broken by Chairman Imants Rākins, who, critics again noted, was appointed to the council by Jaunais laiks. (To be fair, Rākins is not without qualifications, having himself served from 1992-1995 as LTV’s general director.)

Clearly, some in LTV’s newsroom didn’t like that and, during the Jan. 15 evening news show “Panorāma,” let their opinion be known, likening what happened to how power is passed down in a monarchy. Rākins responded, calling the airing of the newsroom’s opinion unobjective and unethical, according to Baltic News Service. A case of the pot calling the kettle black? Perhaps.

What’s sad about the debate over LTV is that it isn’t serving to make the broadcaster any better. Latvia, in my opinion, needs a strong public broadcaster, one that can be sheltered from Jaunais laiks or whichever party is in power. Whoever becomes the next general director, whether it’s Kots or someone else, will still face the unenviable challenge of trying the steer an invaluable but troubled institution.

S magazine folds

Among the chores with the beginning of the new year was renewal of a number of subscriptions to Latvian magazines. One of them was S, a young women’s magazine my daughter has been reading for a couple of years.

But we were surprised to learn, in an e-mail from the Santa publishing house (publisher of a number of titles, including the popular women’s magazine Santa and the gossipy Privātā Dzīve), that S will cease publication after its March issue. The publishing house’s board last week decided to drop the title.

Even more surprising was the reason: competition from one of the best-known women’s magazines in the world, Cosmopolitan, published by New York-based Hearst Magazines International. If you haven’t looked at a Latvian newsstand recently, you too might be surprised to see that there’s now a Latvian edition of Cosmo. In fact, it’s been there since March 2002, put out in association with I&L Publishing Limited of Rīga.

S, with its combination of fashion, culture, sex and relationship advice, will be sorely missed by at least one young reader. Or maybe she’ll just start reading Latvian Cosmo.

Andris Straumanis is a special correspondent for and a co-founder of Latvians Online. From 2000–2012 he was editor of the website.

Influences of others show on Bardo Splash debut

Bordo

When I first heard Bordo, Bardo Splash’s debut album, I was at different points reminded of another Latvian group. But I couldn’t quite place it. Prāta Vētra? Jumprava? RamaDance? A bit of research revealed that at least the latter two are related.

Bordo, released late last year, was produced by Aigars Grāvers, one of the four members of the long-standing Jumprava and leader of the exciting Rama Dance project. And, it turns out, Bardo Splash’s lead singer, 21-year-old Rudīte Būmane, performed on Rama Dance’s second album, Extravagance.

Bardo Splash is relatively new to Latvia’s music scene, growing out of the now-defunct group Zupski Rubin. Bardo Splash has performed since 2001 in a variety of venues, including the noted Liepājas Dzintars and Sinepes un Medus festivals, as well as traveling around Latvia with the 2001 Priekšnams tour organized by Radio SWH. Attempts by media to pigeon-hole the group into a particular genre have mentioned modern rock, atmospheric rock, pop and other labels. On Bordo the group crosses and melds genres as needed. One track, “Māras avots,” in the liner notes is even described as postfeiklora, which, I suppose, can in turn be described as contemporary songs that sound like traditional Latvian folk songs but aren’t.

At the time the album was recorded, the group’s members numbered five: Rudīte Būmane on lead vocals and synthesizer; her brother, Renars Būmanis, on drums, programming and synthesizer; Aleksandrs Ruģēns (a.k.a. Sniegs) on vocals, acoustic guitar, Jew’s harp and programming; Edgars Dambis on electric and acoustic guitars, and Ieva Rudzīte on bass and acoustic guitar. Ruģēns was largely responsible for all music and lyrics on the album.

Since last summer, Dambis and Rudzīte no longer are with Bardo Splash, according to Baltic Records Group. A new guitarist and a new bassist are now working with the group in preparation for concerts. Ruģēns, meanwhile, is reported to be abroad, earning money to support his family.

I hope the departures, permanent or temporary, don’t hurt the group, because this is one band I’d like to see hang together for a while. How many rock or pop bands are there in Latvia today with a female lead singer? For Būmane’s potential as a role model alone, the band should survive.

Bordo also is just a good debut album, with an interesting mix of sounds and thoughtful lyrics. Anyone who has heard RamaDance’s Sāga or Extravagance will recognize similar electronica and folkloric elements in some of Bardo Splash’s work, especially on tunes such as “Māras avots” and “Spoku kamanas” (although for the latter the band cites influence from “post-folkore” group Iļģi).

But don’t expect that to be a constant on this album. The lead track, “Kad sajūtas mānās,” for example, is clearly a pop song, although the lyrics describe emotions encountered during a strange tusiņš.

The sweetest song on the album also is the shortest. At one minute and 12 seconds, “Kad straume projam iet” describes a simple philosophy about humankind’s relationship to the recurring forces of nature. Eight layers of Būmane’s vocals are accompanied just by an acoustic guitar. According to the liner notes, an earlier version of the song almost became the title track for the album.

Five of the album’s 14 tracks are in English, including one of the band’s better-known tunes, “Force majeure.” As with many other Latvian groups, Bardo Splash’s Latvian songs generally are better than their English material, although Būmane’s vocals and Ruģēns lyrics make for a nice combination. And, just as other groups lately have done, Bardo Splash offers Latvian and English versions of the some songs: “Glory Nights” is at least musically the same as “Kad sajūtas mānās,” “Four Fingers” is a relative of “Četri,” and “Initiation” is the anglicized “Māras avots.”

As we often lament in our reviews, the liner notes here are spartan. Lyrics are not provided. They would especially be helpful for the English-language tracks, where meaning sometimes is obscured by unpolished pronunciation.

Flaws aside, if you’re looking for something new from Latvia’s popular music scene, Bordo is worth seeking out.

Details

Bordo

Bardo Splash

Baltic Records Group,  2003

BRG CD 178

Andris Straumanis is a special correspondent for and a co-founder of Latvians Online. From 2000–2012 he was editor of the website.

Prāta Vētra surprises again with latest release

Prāta Vētra

One really never knows what to expect from Prāta Vētra. The band prides itself on doing the unexpected, going against conventional wisdom when recording songs and releasing albums. With its latest compact disc, Dienās, kad lidlauks pārāk tāls, the band surprises again.

The first Prāta Vētra album I bought was the 1999 release Starp divām saulēm, which I really liked. I then got the previous album, Viss ir tieši tā kā tu vēlies, released in 1997. Two of my favorite Prāta Vētra songs are on that album (“Tavas mājas manā azotē” and “Romeo un Džuljeta”), but the rest of the album was truly a head-scratching affair. It really was not at all what I was expecting—truly “alternative” rock.

The next album was the 2001 release Kaķēns, kurš atteicās no jūras skolas, which once again had me scratching my head. This time I was left wondering what happened to the guitars and human drummer. The album was a very slick pop affair, heavy on the keyboards and drum machines, light on the guitar and acoustic drums. Perhaps this should not have been a surprise, considering the big hit and Eurovision contender that the super-poppy, yet pretty, “My Star” was (the song was titled “Īssavienojums” in its Latvian version). Regardless, Kaķēns was yet another excellent album from the band, as the songs were stronger than ever.

So what next to expect from Prāta Vētra? Would the next album be farther down the slick pop trail? Or would the band come back and surprise again?

And the band certainly has surprised me again. Considering the group’s massive success not just in Latvia, but around Europe, I expected a very safe, poppy album that would appeal to the masses and sell lots of records. How surprised I was to hear that the guitar was back in full force, like meeting a dear, old friend whom you have not seen in a long time. Even though years may have gone by, after a few minutes it seems like no time has passed at all. Dienās, kad lidlauks pārāk tāls, though once again departing from the previously established trajectory, has all the necessary ingredients to make for a truly classic album.

Presumably I was not the only one to note the conspicuous absence of guitars on many of the tracks on Kaķēns. On the new album, their return is announced on the first track. “Pa pareizām” is a rocking number that gives the listener a hint of what to expect.

Band members have not changed. Besides Renārs Kaupers on vocals, there is Jānis Jubalts on guitar, Kaspars Roga on drums, Māris Mihelsons on keyboards and Mumiņš (Gundars Mauševics) on bass guitar.

Dienās is actually the Latvian version of the album, while A Day Before Tomorrow is the English version. Starting with Starp divām saulēm, Prāta Vētra has released its albums in two versions, English and Latvian. However, a discouraging trend is that fewer and fewer of the songs on the “Latvian” version are actually in Latvian. On Starp divām saulēm all the songs were in Latvian. On Kaķēns, two of the songs were in English. But on Dienās half of the “Latvian” album (six songs) is in English. Perhaps this should not come as a surprise—it is quite demanding of the listening public to expect an album entirely in English and another album entirely in Latvian! Might as well enjoy it while we can, because if the band’s successes continue, it is entirely possible that English will be Prāta Vētra’s “only” language in the future!

(Dienās also is the first album in Latvia to be guarded by anti-copying software, meaning it’s difficult—but not impossible—to make digital copies of the songs.)

Of the English songs, two stand out. “Colder,” the first single off the album, is not your everyday pop song. In fact, it is a more somber, guitar-driven track. The second stand-out song is “Gala Komma,” probably the most surprising song on the album, as it has an almost African beat and rhythm to it. A lot of the words in the song seem to be made up, but perhaps there is some meaning to them. In any case, it is an infectious song, guaranteed to stick in your head. On the whole, the English lyrics on the album are light years ahead in terms of lyricism than Prāta Vētra’s previous albums.

Of the Latvian songs, my favorite is most likely “Es gribu” (“I Want”). Most all of the great Prāta Vētra songs are those that on the outside are upbeat and pretty, but inside have a tinge of sadness. This song is no exception, and it features some great acoustic guitar work from Jubalts. Another of my favorites in the same vein is “Man kabatā” (“In My Pocket”).

Another standout track is the first Latvian single, “Plaukstas lieluma pavasaris” (“Palm-sized Spring”), featuring drummer Roga playing the accordion!

For those who are specifically looking for the slick poppy stuff, never fear. Linda Leen stops by to sing a duet with Kaupers on the overwrought ballad “Reality Show.” The lyrics here are a bit cliche and I usually skip over this track.

Prāta Vētra enlisted British producers Alex Silva (on “Colder” and “Plaukstas lieluma pavasaris”) and Steve Lyon (producer on everything else), giving the album a truly professional sound, though it thankfully it’s not overly slick. Silva has worked with bands like Suede, while Lyon has produced for Depeche Mode and others.

Prāta Vētra even got well-known photographer Anton Corbijn to shoot the album cover and booklet art. Corbijn has worked with a long list of musical performers, including Travis, Depeche Mode and Paul Oakenfold.

But besides the pictures and credits, the album booklet has lyrics for just one song, “Kristiānijas suņi.”

Hardcore Latvian music fans might be disappointed that there are fewer songs in Latvian this time. However, don’t let that discourage you, as the songs here are some of the best work these guys have done. Hopefully those who might have been turned off by the slick and keyboard-intensive Kaķēns will give this album a listen, as they will be pleasantly surprised by what awaits them.

Details

Dienās, kad lidlauks pārāk tāls

Prāta Vētra

MICREC,  2003

MRCD 252

Egils Kaljo is an American-born Latvian from the New York area . Kaljo began listening to Latvian music as soon as he was able to put a record on a record player, and still has old Bellacord 78 rpm records lying around somewhere.