A song festival diary: First day

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.

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

BrainStorm readies for Chicago’s song festival

If there’s a darling of the popular music business in Latvia these days, it has to be BrainStorm (Prāta Vētra). The group, led by the exuberant Renārs Kaupers, has won the hearts of fans in Latvia, who have watched and cheered as the group has become the country’s best-known band both at home and abroad.

Formed in 1989 by high school classmates from Jelgava, BrainStorm released its first single in 1992. Several singles and albums have followed, each one garnering a larger fan base in Latvia and, gradually, in neighboring countries.

Its third-place showing in the 2000 Eurovision Song Contest raised interest in the band throughout the continent, earning it further exposure and record deals. Being the warm-up act for The Cranberries during part of the Irish band’s recent European tour didn’t hurt, either.

And now the band is set to stir up a storm as it plays to fans during the Latvian Song Festival in Chicago this week. Those who never have seen the band perform in Latvia will get a chance to see lead singer Kaupers, guitarist Jānis Jubalts, bassist Gundars Mauševics, drummer Kaspars Roga and keyboardist Māris Mihelsons play both at the Club Metro on July 19 and at an official song festival dance July 20.

BrainStorm’s latest albums, the English-language Online and the Latvian-language Kaķēns, kurš atteicās no jūrasskolas, share music but not lyrics. Both were released last year and singles from Online continue to earn impressive results in pop music polls around Europe. The album recently went gold in Poland (selling 35,000 units), and the video for “Waterfall” made it to the top spot on Slovakia’s pop chart as well as the MTV Nordic chart.

Between touring and getting ready for Chicago, Kaupers via e-mail answered some questions about the band and the changes it has seen over the years.

Q: How did the group come up with the name BrainStorm (Prāta vētra)? Were there other choices, and why didn’t you pick those?

The idea came from our drummer Kaspars’ aunt, who by the way is from America. She went to one of our first concerts in the Jelgava high school, and afterwards said that was some kind of brainstorm. As you know, “brainstorm” in English means when ideas happen or are generated. We translated BrainStorm to Latvian and got Prāta vētra. Of course, there were other choices, such as Swordfish or, in Latvian, Zobenzivs.

Q: Just a few years ago you were a new and pleasant group from Jelgava, but now you are known in a number of European countries. You no longer have concerts just in the homeland, but everywhere, soon even in the United States. Your music videos are professionally produced, you’ve appeared with The Cranberries, etc. What in your opinion has changed, and what has stayed the same?

The most important thing is that we began playing music as friends—and we still are friends. During these years our friendship has become closer. BrainStorm is like our second family. We’ve changed musically and, we want to believe, have become more professional.

Q: Two years ago BrainStorm earned third place in the Eurovision Song Contest. At the time, some predicted big things for you. Was the Eurovision result meaningful for BrainStorm’s development outside Latvia. And will BrainStorm benefit from Marija Naumova’s victory this year?

Of course, we can’t deny the meaning of Eurovision to BrainStorm’s success. But Eurovision by itself was not our goal. Rather, we saw it as a platform and a way to draw attention to ourselves, because it’s hard for a group from Eastern Europe to show the Western world that we too can record songs that meet Western technical standards. Eurovision has a gigantic audience and even though we don’t play the kind of music usually heard in Eurovision, from our vantage point it doesn’t matter whether you’re playing in the Glastonbury festival in Great Britain or in Eurovision, because everywhere the audience always is and will be people. Marija’s victory of course reminded those who had forgotten that two years ago BrainStorm got third place. In my opinion, that’s good. And every such victory or gaining of attention is good for all Latvian popular music.

Q: As with many other groups, the group’s leader becomes a star while the others stay in the background. We often see or read about Renārs Kaupers doing this or that. On your Web site it’s Kaupers who provides news. Kaupers starred in a film, Vecās pagastmājas mistērija. And so forth. What do the other group members think? Are they jealous? Do they also have side projects?

I’m the singer and I’m the one who has to appear out front on stage. And because of that I’m also the focus of attention. But day to day, working on albums or music videos or other things, we are all equally valuable. Everyone can speak his mind—we have a democracy. I think the others aren’t jealous and they may even have it better, because they have to work less. For example, when we were in Prague filming the video for “Maybe,” on the second day I was practically the only one from the group who had to be in front of the camera. The rest of the them could wander the streets of the Old City and soak up the sun. Perhaps at times I’m jealous of them!

Q: It is the rare Latvian musical artist who can make a living just with music. What about BrainStorm? Do you have enough work?

We used to all have other jobs, but then we understood that if we want to give ourselves completely to music and to prove ourselves outside Latvia, then we have to concentrate only on music. That’s what we did.

Q: What is your opinion of your recordings? How have your music and lyrics changed in recent years?

A person changes over the years and is influenced by various things, feelings and people. Each album we try to record as the best, concentrating all our energies and skills. Right now we’re working on new songs for a new album, and we’re doing it with the same attitude. If you’re not “on fire” about it, it’s not even worth doing. Our musical style has change over time, as we search for our own way of expressing ourselves and new directions. At present, we’re searching for a producer for our new album, someone who sees the big picture. The right producer is important, because they for the moment become the sixth band member. In terms of lyrics, those are inspired by specific events, specific people, specific things at specific times in our lives, but they can just as well be brought on without specific occurrences or thoughts. Sometimes that works better, because the musical material is primary. Sometimes inspiration can come from ice cream or even an ironing board.

Q: Online and Kaķēns, kurš atteicās no jūrasskolas represent the second time BrainStorm has released English and Latvian albums simultaneously. Will you continue to do that, or will you drop Latvian at some point and record only in English? And what about Russian?

I think we’ll continue to record in both languages—Latvian for Latvia and English for abroad—because our audience in Latvia is very broad, from little children to gray-haired gentlemen and ladies, and not all of them understand English. (To do otherwise) wouldn’t be right, because they are our dearest and most loyal fans. We did record one song in Russian, but for now we don’t feel it’s necessary to sing in Russian. Our English albums have been released in Russia, our songs are played on the radio and our videos have been shown on Russian MTV.

Q: In July you head to Chicago to participate in the Latvian Song Festival. It won’t be your first time in the United States, but do you have any plans to try to achieve something in the American music market?

I know that our recording company, Microphone Records (MICREC), has contacts in America through which they are trying to arrange something. But America is one of the largest markets in the music industry. It’s not easy to break into it. Besides, America has different kinds of music. Even groups from Great Britain find it hard to break in, not to mention groups from elsewhere in Western Europe. Of course, we won’t give up hope and will do all we can. However, for now we definitely are concentrating more on Europe. As someone from a record company once told me, at first you have to gain success in your neighboring countries and then, gradually, farther and farther away. We’ve had success with that, in Estonia and Lithuania, also Poland, and now the Czech Republic and Slovakia, as well as Scandinavia.

Prāta Vētra

BrainStorm includes, from left, drummer Kaspars Roga, keyboardist Māris Mihelsons, guitarist Jānis Jubalts, lead singer Renārs Kaupers and bassist Gundars Mauševics. (Photo courtesy of MICREC)

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

‘Labās rokas’ reveals itself as a good choice

Labās rokas

Small-time Latvian thief Margita (Rēzija Kalniņa) and young Pavo (Atis Tenbergs) first meet in a small-town Estonian pub. (Photo from Allfilm)

Labās Rokas (Good Hands), the Estonian and Latvian co-production directed by Peeter Simm, is filled with characters and character, sadness and humor. There’s Margita (Rēzija Kalniņa), a two-bit thief who along with her sister will steal anything that isn’t nailed down. There’s Adolf (Lembit Ulfsak), an engineer in a dying industrial town that no longer needs his skills, and his best friend, Dr. Lepik (Tonu Kark), who performs dental surgery on himself with the help of a mirror but without the benefit of anesthetic. There’s Arnold (Tiit Sukk), Adolf’s son, the town’s policeman whose primary job seems to be to ticket his father each time he catches him speeding. And then there’s Pavo (Atis Tenbergs), a caustic and jaded 8-year-old who seems to be going on 80.

All of their lives become entwined when Margita, after stealing a car with her sister in Jūrmala, gets into an accident and has to flee across the border into Estonia. She reaches the outskirts of the town of Vineeri (Plywood), named after a now non-functioning and shuttered plywood factory, and attempts to steal Adolf’s car while he is taking a swim in a river. As she is trying to get away she notices that Adolf still hasn’t come up for air. Thinking that he is drowning she jumps out of the car and tries to save his life, much to Adolf’s disappointment and surprise. Eventually they end up back in Adolf’s house. When Margita finds out about Arnold the cop, who shares his father’s house, she realizes that hiding in the house of a policeman might be the best way to wait for the heat to blow over.

What ensues is an exploration of character and relationships. Simm weaves a simple story that is brought to life by wonderful performances from his cast. Rēzija Kalniņa is almost perfect as a seemingly amoral thief with no loyalty to anyone or anything, but who once literally walked on glass to prove her love. Lembit Ulfsak and Tonu Kark are perfect as a the quarrelsome and quirky odd couple who have long ago learned to accept each other despite their differences. Tiit Sukk, like Kalniņa, is good as the lonely and morose cop, but at times seems a bit too wooden in his performance.

The true standout of the cast, however, is young Atis Tenbergs. When his real mother (Maija Apīne) is admitted to the hospital, he adopts Margita as his surrogate mother and mentor. Its not a novel cinematic device, but Tenbergs pulls it off perfectly as a child in a world of mixed-up and often childish adults who has to be both a child an and adult.

Labās rokas is also an interesting exploration of the two different national characters of Estonians and Latvians and how they perceive each other. Too often the Baltics are seen as a single entity where the people are indistinguishable from each other outside of their languages and borders. The rest of the world might perceive them as “the Baltics,” but they can be as different from each other as night and day. As Pavo’s mother explains to Margita, she loves the town of Vineeri and its people but she is desperate for a conversation with a fellow Latvian. The locals never seem to go beyond “tere” (hello) and xx (goodbye).  On the other hand, the locals perceive the Latvians as “chatty” and “aggressive” and while in public seem remote and cold, on an individual level speak to each other about topics and in an intimacy that most of us are incapable of.

At the heart of it Labās rokas is about individual choices—and living with those choices—as well as loyalty. It is a wonderfully quirky film about wonderfully quirky people who have learned to accept and live with each other. The film has won a few awards on the European film circuit and the Latvian “Lielais Kristaps” for best film. It deserves a broader audience.

Details

Labās rokas

Peeter Simm

Allfilm,  2001

Notes: In Latvian, Estonian and Russian (with English subtitles). Drama and comedy, color, 90 minutes. Screenplay: Toomas Raudam and Peeter Simm; director of photography: Uldis Jancis; producers: Artur Talvik and Gatis Upmalis; art director: Ronald Kolman; sound: Ivo Felt; costumes: Ieva Kundziņa; principal cast: Maija Apīne, Rēzija Kalniņa, Tonu Kark, Leonarda Kļaviņa, Tiit Suuk, Atis Tenbergs and Lembit Ulfsak