Dizaina Studija. Telpa Forma Laiks

It is strange that instead of constantly and systematically taking pride in the special features of our country and our capital city, through internal and foreign policies, publicly and privately, we usually get embarrassingly perplexed and ironically self-critical when speaking about Latvia’s image.
We also wait for some wise person living outside Latvia to tell us what true Latvian values are. And, if they tell us, then we are quick to reject what they say. You could say that the 15 years of independence have passed in real agony, trying to find our real identity or image. Even this process can be quite interesting, but it does not bring enough pragmatic results for the tourist industry, attraction of investment and general international recognition.
International competition in the field of recognition is strong and increasing – the Liverpudlians named their new airport after Lennon, the Swedes are also seriously considering renaming Arlanda as Nobel Airport. We have to recognise our own scale in this context. If we named Riga airport after Rainis, it will be to no use. From a professional architectural viewpoint – Riga and its spatial features are just as internationally recognisable as the whole of Latvia generally.
If we consider the issue with bureaucratic objectivity – we have two listings in the UNESCO World Heritage List (Sweden has 10): The historic centre of Riga with its exemplary Art Nouveau and wooden architectural heritage and the Song Festival in the intangible heritage register.
The State tourist development agency accents this second listing and with its graphically complex, seven-colour logo proclaims: Latvia – the land that sings!
This is fine, and we would be really lucky if the Lithuanians, Estonians, Spanish, Italians, Irish, etc. did not sing at all, or at least did so a little more quietly.
Riga usually bandies about a whole string of true and not-so-true slogans:
Riga – the Art Nouveau metropolis;
Riga – little Paris, or Paris of the North;
Riga – the pearl of wooden architecture;
Riga – capital of the Baltics;
Riga – city of gardens and parks (the real gardens designed by Kuphaldt, Zeidaks and Barons are unkempt, although beer gardens have flourished).
Today we have to add another already internationally recognised trait, totally without irony, but with regret:
Riga – city of casinos.

These are all features of Riga, and their objective existence beyond our subjective feelings and value systems is reality. But we would feel more comfortable both individually and as a group if we had agreed on the main feature. Then we could have tended this symbol: developed it and been proud of its growing recognisability. We recognise the bright green clover of Ireland or the red dragon of Wales without any problems.

The Riga 800 celebrations were a sort of starring moment – an excellent graphic symbol was supplemented with a well organised, colourful celebration. During these celebrations, Riga was born from its wealth of water as a deity of celebratory foam, but when the celebrations ended, it didn’t continue to grow, because there were not and there still are not any proper parents or teachers. The urban space of Riga is not being maintained and its individual treasures are not being actively polished up as shining symbols like the overall prosperity of the State, general building works, private car parks... we are continuing our celebration of shopping centres and petrol stations. This is also an objective, and hopefully, a short-lived phenomenon.
We shouldn’t be sad that we do not yet have a pissing boy, magnificent parliamentary buildings with a clock tower or an openwork iron tower – we have endless possibilities and those unpolished treasures. Riga is like a loaded freight ship before the international war of civic identities.
Let’s close our eyes and imagine a vision of civic building works: you are walking along the provincial Balasta dambis – in the distance you can see a well integrated and internationally recognised group of highrises designed by specialists, on the right hand side you see a well maintained, but not overdone, row of wooden houses, the highrise of the Ministry of Agriculture has now disappeared from the citadel and the silhouette or Riga shines with the fragility of its towers. Unique? Almost.
You fly into Riga. For the first time. The airport – beautiful, Ulmaña gatve – large shops, offices, Turkish-Latvian highrises – like everywhere in the world. You cross the railways flyover – and you see 26 wooden buildings, like amber beads strung onto the greyness of the main road, like a warm greeting from centuries past. Unique? Almost.
And so each of us, patriots of our Riga, the residents and creators, can take a look into the storage of the “freight ship”, devise our formula for a unique city scape, doubt and pose questions. About the three cultural buildings around the Daugava, about Alberta Street or Laube, or Maskaçka, about...

P.S. I actually wanted to write about the intimate, how a city undresses, about details, but it turned out to be about the big picture, a little bit political.