illumineerima

This post has nothing to do with Estonia, but it deals with a topic that is important to me, so I hope you will take the time to read it through!

I’ve loved the architecture of Antoni Gaudi since I first saw it… in a book. In fact, I still haven’t made it to Barcelona. But that doesn’t mean the fate of the Sagrada Familia (Gaudi’s temple-in-progress) isn’t important to me.

Gaudi’s architecture is whimsical and shows a generosity of vision that I adore. So, after reading Warning: Trains Coming. A Masterpiece Is at Risk. in yesterday’s New York Times, I immediately began looking a way to lend my voice in protest against the coming damage of the Sagrada Familia. And I found this petition: SOSSagradaFamilia.org

I hope that Gaudi, architecture, and the protection of a UNESCO World Heritage Site are important enough for you to also sign the petition and to encourage the same among your friends!

Wish I had known about this sooner, but there’s a film about Chagall’s work being screened at Kumu this evening:

06.06.07 kell 18:00
Chagall – Venemaale, eeslitele ja teistele
Rež. François Lévy Kuentz
Prantsusmaa 2003. Filmi pikkus 55′. Inglise keeles.

Eluloofilm Prantsusmaal kodu leidnud valgevene-juudi kunstnik Marc Chagallist (1887-1985), kelle 20. sajandi suurtest murrangutest killustatud saatus kandis ta sünnikodust Vitebskist läbi Peterburi, Moskva, Pariisi, Berliini ja New Yorgi Lõuna-Prantsusmaale Saint-Paul-de-Vence’i. Chagalli loetakse 20. sajandi alguse Pariisi koolkonna üheks klassikuks, kelle nimega ühtegi „-ismi“ siiski siduda ei saa – ta eristus hoopis täiesti eksootilise müstilis-romantilise pildikeele ja muinasjutuliste külaelu-kujutustega. Chagalli looming oli justkui ellujäämistehnika läbi pideva eemaloleku, puudumis- ja üksindustunde, mis saatsid kunstnikku tema esimestest rännakutest alates. Juurtetus ja taasjuurdumine, kallite inimeste eemalolek, taasleidmine ja -kaotamine – need väga tugevad inimlikud emotsioonid on Chagalli teoste kandvaks narratiiviks, mis teeb tema loomingu mõistetavaks, jõuab otse vaataja südamesse. Võime armastada, leida elujõudu ka siis, kui oled pea kõik kaotanud või kõigest loobunud, on Chagalli loo teine kandev sõnum, mida filmis annab südamliku arhiivi-intervjuu kaudu edasi klassik ise. Kuigi eluloole keskenduv, annab film hästi edasi ka kunstiajaloolise pildi Chagalli ajastust ja loometeest.

Elbert Tuganov, the father of Estonian animation, died on March 22, 2007. He was 87.

Tuganov was actually born in Baku, Azerbaijan (1920), and began his animation career in Germany. When Hitler took power, Tuganov returned to Estonia.

He joined Estonia’s state film studio, Tallinnfilm in 1946. For 11 years, Tuganov shot, drew and painted titles and credit sequences. During this time, Tuganov built an animation stand that would allow the studio to do frame-by-frame shooting. A visiting Moscow official was impressed by the new apparatus and suggested that Tuganov make animation films.

Click here to read the full obituary.

Äripäev, Estonia’s business-related newspaper, was chosen as one of four (out of 351) of the world’s best-designed newspapers. Pretty cool, eh? (via NewsDesigner)

There’s an exhibit at the National Library of Estonia that’s up until Friday (Feb. 23) that I recommend visiting. I don’t think there’s a unifying theme in this exhibit beyond the individual exploration by artists into the ideas of “What is a book? What is book art?” Visiting the exhibit won’t take much of your time, but it will introduce you to the array of contemporary work by Estonian book artists. And since it’s only up until this Friday, hurry up!

For those of you who just can’t make it or need a bit of a teaser, here are a few photos I snapped:

I chose the above image, taken during a performance of EESTI: ballaadid, for the header because that performance was the turning point in my relationship with Estonia. In August 2005, I attended the most amazing performance I have ever seen. EESTI: ballaadid premiered in August of 2004, and the final performance (which I attended) was on August 7, Veljo Tormis’s 75th birthday. It wasn’t a glitzy performance like those of Broadway (or Las Vegas, for that matter). Rather, we drove the winding roads near the northern coast of Estonia and parked outside of a large barn. The show was sold out and the seating (on temporary bleachers) was tight. I was nearing the end of my two-month stay in Estonia and utterly unprepared for what has turned out to be a life-altering event.

This cantata-ballet is considered the opus magnum of Veljo Tormis, who was also present. Many Estonians call Tormis a genius. Using folktales from several regions in Estonia dating from the first decade of the 1900s through the 1970s, Tormis created a masterpiece that successfully and beautifully links the past with the present. The folktales deal with the timeless themes of reproduction, family relationships, and death. As Mr. Tormis wrote in the program:

Not that I make use of folk song, folk song makes use of me. To me, folk music is not an instrument through which I can express myself. On the contrary, I feel it my duty to present folk music as it is: its essence, spirit, ideas and form. To my understanding, runo-song is the most outstanding and original phenomenon of Estonian culture. Today it has lost its form as it once existed, as an inseparable part of the ways of everyday life. What I am trying to do is to link it with modern art forms, and to bring out the uniqueness of runo-song and the message it conveys.

The runo-songs Tormis refers to are often short, repetitive choral pieces rooted in the Finno-Ugric tradition. Choral singing is still strong in Estonia, and the fifteen EESTI: ballaadid singers were masterful. The music conductor was Tõnu Kaljuste (founder of the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir and a world-famous conductor), and the director was Peeter Jalakas of Von Krahl Theater. I’ve heard that Von Krahl Theater is the avant-garde, radical theater here, though EESTI: ballaadid is the only performance I’ve attended. I’ve been to the actual theater, in Tallinn’s Old City, but for film screenings. I’ve been told that Estonians either love or hate Von Krahl, as they use “rough” language and have off-the-wall interpretations of well-known plays. I must be radical, because that sounds cool to me. Anyway, though the singing of EESTI: ballaadid was in Estonian, the Estonian language is full of vowels and does not have the harsh sounds of Russian and German. Listening without full understanding was still a pleasurable experience.

The dance performance was methodical and slow, but still quite intense thanks to the skill of the 11 dancers. The choreographer and leading dancer was Aki Suzuki, who is a Japanese Butoh specialist and the only non-Estonian to perform. The dance was essentially Butoh in style, and the dancers (and singers) were covered in white makeup and powder. I’m not sure if the women dancers were entirely nude towards the end or if they wore very thin bodysuits; the men’s costumes varied. The Butoh movements in this ballet were very subtle and controlled; sometimes it was amazing just how slow but still elegant the movements were. In spite of the modern Japanese origins of Butoh, I can see why that dance form might appeal to Estonians, who are often methodical, careful, and quiet in nature.Beyond that description, words fail me. It’s just one of those things you have to see to really understand its impact. Let’s hope Arm Music comes out with their long-promised DVD before much more time elapses.

So, how did EESTI: ballaadid change my life? Upon seeing that performance, I fell in love with Estonia. When my husband and I finished our graduate programs in the States, choosing to come to Estonia was almost a no-brainer. Actually working out the details to come here required a bit of thought.

View more photos of the performance.
Listen to sound samples from EESTI:balladid.
Read about Language and Poetic Metre in Regilaul.
Read about Quantity and Stress in Estonian Folksong Performance.

(all photos: Peeter Paasmäe)