Imants Kalniņš is one of the most beloved composers in Latvia. His music is listened to and appreciated by all types, whether they are casual music fans or devout music theorists. What is it about his music that seems to strike a chord within most every Latvian? Perhaps it is the variety of styles he can compose in, or how his music can convey just about any emotion—from happy rejoicing to being stranded in sadness to exuberant nationalism.

The past few years have seen Kalniņš once again take center stage in the public musical eye. Popular works in recent times include the re-recording of the film score to the movie "Pūt, vējiņi!" and the success of the rock group Autobuss debesīs, whose music was composed entirely by Kalniņš.

This year also saw the release of the retrospective Dziesmu izlase, containing an assortment of his popular music, recorded by the many artists who have worked with Kalniņš’ music throughout the years: Menuets, Turaidas roze, Jauns Mēness, Aigars Grāvers of Jumprava, and Renārs Kaupers of Prāta Vetra.

The disc conntains 16 tracks, compiled by Kalniņš and Ainars Mielavs. Coincidentally enough, seven of the 16 songs are songs that involve either Mielavs or his dormant group, Jauns mēness. But no matter…

The album starts off with two songs by Menuets, "Viņi dejoja vienu vasaru" and "Alvas zaldatiņi," both of which have lyrics by Māris Čaklais. The first song is a very pretty but sad piece about two lovers who had a brief romance. The chorus to the song reminds me a bit of "Memory" by Andrew Lloyd Weber. "Alvas zaldatiņi" (Tin soldiers) is one of Kalniņš’ more popular songs. It is a "military" style song about children who are playing with tin soldiers. It also offers the advice that "a dead Napoleon should be buried so he doesn’t smell, but a cat should be fed with warm milk"!

Another group that played songs by Kalniņš was Turaidas roze, and they have four songs on this release : "Svētku diena," "Nelaid, māte, bērnus mežā," "Apvij rokas" and "Mežā." Of the four, my favorite is "Svētku diena" (for which Kalniņš also wrote the lyrics), a celebratory song about the return of a loved one: "Every time that you are next to me is day of celebration!"

Another favorite on the album is "Es šodien jūku prātā," featuring Jauns mēness and lead vocals by Renārs Kaupers. I especially like the mandolin part, as well as the lyrics by Mielavs: "Nav vērts ja tikai tāpat par velti zvaigznes krīt" (It’s not worth if it if the stars fall for no reason).

Many of Kalniņš’ compositions are richly textured, a good example being the very beautiful song "Es redzēju sapnī," with its very lush keyboard part. It is almost symphonic in its style, and it is complemented well by Mielavs’ vocals. However, the very next song, "I Love You," is a straight ahead rock song that makes the listener want to sing along with its very simple but effective chorus in English, "I love you, do you love me too?"

The new "sensation" in Latvian music these days is Autobuss debesīs, who had the honor of closing out the day of rock music at the Rīga 800 festival on Aug. 18 (they played right before the amazing fireworks display). Part of the reason the are so popular is Kalniņš’ music. The group’s lead singer is Marts Kristiāns Kalniņš, the composer’s son. Dziesmu izlase contains two Autobuss songs, neither of which are on their album Logs puspavērts. They are "Sitiet bungas, mani mīļie" and the song called "Autobuss debesīs," another favorite of mine on this record. The lyrics for both songs were written by Viks (just Viks—no other name given!). The Autobuss songs are also a good example of how Kalniņš is capable of writing music that appeals to a younger generation. Kalniņš truly has cross-generational appeal.

The final song on the album, "Apturi mani," is a beautiful duet between Ainars Mielavs and Rēzija Kalniņa (who, besides being a well-known Latvian actress, is also Imants Kalniņš’ daughter).

Of course, you couldn’t possibly fit all the great Kalniņš songs onto one CD. One song that I particularly missed on this release was "Veltijums LTF" (dedicated to the Latvian Popular Front), probably my favorite Kalnīņš song.

The major disappointment in this release is the packaging: besides the CD cover, there isn’t any! You’d figure that with an artist with the popularity of Kalniņš, UPE Recording Co. could have at least included the lyrics and maybe a bit of history about each band (what albums they released, who were the members of the band, etc.) since it is not just Kalniņš music itself that is important. Besides, Kalniņš being such an interesting person, a bit of biographical information wouldn’t have hurt either. For those interested in more about Kalniņš the composer, I would recommend reading the book Jaunā mūzika pēc divdesmit gadiem by Ingrīda Zemzare and Guntars Pupa.

This CD is essential listening for anyone interested in Latvian music. There is good reason Kalniņš is considered a national treasure, and this CD goes a long way in confirming that standing.

As for the lyrics being absent, I think a Latvian friend of mine had the best explanation for that. "Why would you need the lyrics?," she asked. "These songs are already such a part of the Latvian culture that everyone knows all the lyrics by heart anyway!"

Television shows and films about Latvia are rarely seen elsewhere in the world, and those that do make it onto the screen often make the locals cringe. In recent years, the only depictions of this small country seem to have been dubious exposes about prostitution and alleged ethnic troubles.

However, a documentary that recently premiered in Rīga is an interesting change from all that. Made with Western money and local talent, Rīga pēc desmit gadiem (Rīga After Ten Years) is one of the most honest and insightful films this reviewer has seen about the Latvian capital.

The premise is simple: During the winter of 2001, a camera crew followed four young people ages 21 to 28. We are given glimpses into their everyday lives. It may sound like a reality show, but this one achieves a lot more depth than is usually the case with that genre.

Karīna, a lawyer, is grieving over her boyfriend who committed suicide. Līga, a promising opera singer, is pondering whether to leave Latvia to join her lover in Spain. Aivars, a police academy cadet, is already flirting with the temptations of power and corruption. And Romāns, a butcher in Rīga’s central market and the oldest of the four, seems to be making the best of his life despite a childhood spent in various institutions and a grueling workload as an adult.

The film is rescued from mere voyeurism by the obvious trust that the production team has won from the subjects. And while the main focus is on the individuals, as the title suggests a lot is also said about Rīga a decade after independence.

Not all of it is pretty. While these young people seem to be making the best of things, they are beset by money and relationship difficulties, and it is made clear that other members of their generation are falling victim to drugs and alcohol. The troubled atmosphere is reflected in the footage of Rīga itself. A few shots of churches and cobblestones are outweighed by darkened, smoggy streets and tiny apartments. But somehow Rīga still comes across as a place of energy and tough optimism.

The film was financed by French TV channel ARTE. It was screened in October in France, Switzerland and Germany as part of a series about young people in five European cities (the others are Istanbul, Rekyavik, Belgrade and Bilbao.) An important part of the deal was that locals have artistic control over the films, and in Latvia this opportunity was handed to Arta Biseniece of Rīga-based Kaupo Filma.

Biseniece said that all of the action in the films is spontaneous and no one was specially auditioned for the parts. She wanted a policeman, a singer, a worker from the central markets, and Karīna, who is a personal friend of hers. The only other candidates were a young Russian man at the markets, who turned down an offer to take part, and a Russian DJ, who was to have been a fifth subject until the production team decided that he had nothing interesting to say.

In fact, Biseniece said her goal was to focus on ordinary people.

"For some reason Latvians are always making films about artists," she said with a laugh. "They get a musician and film him on a roof playing a saxophone."

The director said she developed a lot of affection for her subjects, even for Aivars the policeman, whom she respects for being honest about his views on the world.

And she firmly defended the images of Rīga shown in the film.

"The film was made in winter, which is always less picturesque than summer, but more importantly, everyday life is not a holiday," she said. "Rīga is not just the Old Town, most of us live in Purvciems or Ziepniekalns (Soviet-era housing estates), we go to work through muddy tunnels and come home exhausted after dark."

Just 31 herself, Biseniece said she can completely relate to her quartet. She suggested that they are an intermediate generation which still has memories of Communism but is young enough to adjust to the new realities.

Oddly, she said that she had not been at all influenced by an earlier documentary about young Latvians made by Juris Podnieks in the late 1980s, whose title posed the question, Is It Easy to be Young?

However, as that film implied about youth under glasnost, so this one suggests that the answer today is still a resounding no.

Rīga pēc desmit gadiem won the award for best documentary in the Lielais Kristaps film festival Nov. 16, the Latvian equivalent of the Oscars. No plans have been announced to distribute the film outside of Europe, and video copies aren’t available yet either. However, when it does come on screen, this film should be seen by anyone who wants to look into the very heart of the city.

Though there are many perks to being in a band that’s been around for a long time, there also can be more pressure. Music fans tend to be a cynical bunch, and even though you may have sold boatloads of records in the past, one bad record will turn your fans against you. The pressure comes from how to keep it interesting. The band may have established a sound, but there is a danger of going to the well once too often. Deviate from that sound too much and run the risk of alienating your fans.

Of course, there are some bands out there, be they Latvian or otherwise, that have made a career of making the same album over and over again. And there is a place for that, but very few can get away with it and still maintain fan loyalty.

Another one of the veteran bands of the Latvian rock scene, Credo, in September released its latest album, Viss mainās…

After more than a quarter century of making music, did they keep it interesting? I would say that they did.

I was a bit apprehensive about reviewing this record, since I know nothing of Credo’s history, besides the fact that they have been around for a while, so I wouldn’t have the ability to "show off" my supposedly large knowledge of Latvian music. Before this record, I had heard all of three songs of theirs. "Vecais draugs" (from the Mikrofona 20 popularākās dziesmas collection), "Lietus" (from the Visu laiku labākās latviešu rokbalādes collection), and probably their most famous song, "Zinģe par bailēm" (from the Latviešu roka tautasdziesmas collection). And while I liked the songs, I never had any initiative in finding out more about this band.

That is something that I now regret, considering how much I liked the new record, which was an interesting collection of old sounds, new sounds and unique sounds.

The members of Credo are Guntis Veits (voice, rhythm guitar), Armands Alksnis (guitar), Aivars Vīksna (bass guitar) and Guntars Brečs (percussion). The prolific Latvian lyricist Guntars Račs also lends a hand with words to a few of the songs.

A recurring theme through this album is the idea that although things may change, one has to accept them. Appropriately enough, the album title is Viss mainās… (Everything Changes).

"Vējā" (In the Wind) is the first track and is probably my favorite song on the album. An uptempo tune with a great melody, it is a philosophical song about the changes and the fortunes that wind may bring: "Vēja māte vēja zirgiem, pakavus no laimes kal" (The Wind Mother makes horseshoes from fortune for the wind horses).

The second track, "Dzivē gadās arī tā" (That Happens in Life), sounds like it would be more at home on a Santana record, since it has a Latin feel to it. I think it is a successful experiment, because many times when artists attempt Latin sounding tunes, it comes across sounding forced. But, reflecting the carefree spirit of the album, it comes across very well. The song tells the story of a guy, who while talking to one girl, is looking over her shoulder at two other women. I keep waiting for Carlos Santana to start playing a guitar solo!

Another favorite track is "Septītajās debesīs" (Seventh Heaven), if only because it is a Chuck Berry-style, straight-ahead rock-and-roll song: not many chords, but the kind of song that if you hear it while driving, the gas pedal gets used more frequently.

Actually, I lied earlier. I had heard four songs by Credo prior to hearing this album. The final track "Kā būs, tā būs" (What Will Be, Will Be) originally appeared on the Dziesma 2000 compiliation (though it wasn’t credited to Credo, but just to Guntis Veits). It’s a fitting end to an excellent album, reinforcing the spirit of the album—looking forward without any fear of the future.

Viss mainās… is a solid effort by the band and it has been finding its way into my CD player quite frequently. Though a rock record in spirit, it has enough eclectic influences to make it good listening for any music fan, even those cynical ones who think that the old-timers can’t make relevant music anymore. Fortunately for Credo, even after so many years making albums, they still have enough creativity and to make excellent album.