Tallinn Music Week, Tallinn, Estonia, 3-7 April 2024

Virta, Musta Huone, Mari Kalkun, Sven Grünberg

Tallinn Music Week, Tallinn, Estonia, 3-7 April 2024,

April 18, 2024
By Irina Shtreis
Photo by Saara Mildeberg (lead photo)
Web Exclusive

At its official opening Tallinn Music Week, Tallinn City Deputy Mayor Kaarel Oja reassures the audience: “When you don't feel like it was one of the best weekends you've had in the last two months, then blame me.” Such words are rarely heard from someone who represents the world of politics in other countries. The 16th edition of Tallinn Music Week, one of the biggest showcase events in Northern Europe, continues its borderless trajectory, enabling the connection between what seems far away. Here, in the newly reopened Von Krahl Theater, Estonian President Alar Karis is surrounded by members of the festival team, music industry professionals and culture vultures. During his welcome speech, Karis sums up the overarching attitude of Tallinn Music Week: “Music and culture in general tell us that the only way to grow and evolve is to connect and relate to one another.”

Forty-five miles away from Von Krahl and Telliskivi, the former industrial and now genteel creative quarter that hosts the festival, Estonia's nature and wildlife lift the lid on unbridled creative spirit and the idea of ​​connection. While walking along a wooden path in the Kakerdaja swamp, a random visitor quickly becomes aware of the country's desire for self-expression. One fifth of Estonia is marshland, and about 60% of its land is dense forest. The wetlands served as a refuge during wars and are still a haven for many species of birds that nest here at a safe and secure distance from humans. In fact, the name Kakerdaja is a reference to järvekaur or black-throated wagtail, a rare species of waterfowl whose clumsy walk brings to mind one paddling through the swamps. The bird is also an integral element of the mythology invented in this part of Europe. Originally inhabiting these lands, the Setu, an indigenous Finno-Ugric people, believed that the world was born from an egg laid by the järvekaur.

Of course, this feeds into the folk music narrative. In the exhibition Fenno-Ugria, Estonian channeler and singer Marie Kalkoon performing songs from her latest album Stories of Stonia, inspired by the connection between wild landscapes and myths that come out of the fresh air of the forests. Just like storytellers from the early days of Estonia's history, Kalkun tells stories about her country, the historical region of Võrumaa. Faithful to her primary instrument (equivalent to the tsimura), the musician invents a new language by amplifying her sound with keys. The stories are set in the modern context and seemingly reflect the timeless prehistoric state of the world. “The world must be created again,” she tells her F-Hoone audience, before embarking on a journey with a haunting chant like “The Creation of Munam​ä​gi.”

At the same stage, AR-GOD restored the folk tradition of the Udmurts, another Finno-Ugric ethnic group living far from their fellow Setu and Estonians, specifically in the European part of Russia. Despite the distance, the language and melodies echo the repertoire of like-minded collectives in Estonia, including Mari Kalkun. However, the clothing and setting hint at the specific time and place. Singer Maria Korepanova's traditional dress is adorned with silver coins on the front, hinting at the marital status of her protagonist.

If nature and mythology convey timelessness, Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, documents the history of the place simultaneously in a linear and circular way. One of Pikk Street's architectural landmarks is a 16th-century Flemish-style building known as Mustpeade Maja or House Of The Blackheads. It used to be a gathering place for the Brotherhood of the Blackspots, mainly foreign merchants who stood by the city during the crisis. It is believed that in 1343-1345 the black spots protected Tallinn, then Reval, from the attack of native Estonians who wanted to exterminate Danish and German landowners as well as restore pagan traditions.

In this enchanting setting, the legacy of enlightenment protected by the Blackheads is restored by Sven Grünberg, a pioneer of Estonian electronic music. Tracks from his records Hingos (originally released in 1981), Ohm and the theme from the cult sci-fi film The Dead Mountaineer's Hotel are played here by the six-piece EMA (The Ensemble of Estonian Electronic Music Society). Originally recorded on various synthesizers, including the massive EMS Synthi 100, and never performed live before 2021, the compositions now include more than ten instruments derived from the dreaded invention's presets. Along with the analog keys is the sheng, a Vietnamese instrument that Grünberg brought over from Ho Chi Ming in the 1970s. “It's one of my favorite Eastern musical instruments. There are various possibilities, for example, this instrument can be very useful if you want to make vibrato. I used it on mine Ohm Record”.

Describing the environment when the record was originally conceived, Grünberg recalls the surreal atmosphere. “It's a very strange story when you think about how big the Soviet Empire was at the time, and now it's gone. As you can imagine, you're famous in a country almost the same size as the US, and you're pretty famous there, but suddenly that country disappears. For us it is gone, it is a strange story, think about it.' Born of temporary circumstances, music captures the permanence of a calm and absorbing mind.

In addition to local acts, some showcases celebrate talent from countries like South Korea and Canada. In this kaleidoscopic world of cultures, Finland stands out. The tapestry of sound brought by bands from the neighboring state dispels stereotypes and labels associated with genres such as heavy metal and rautalanka (instrumental rock). The diversity of the Finnish scene is celebrated at Oulu 2026, named after the future European Capital of Culture (the status currently held by the Estonian city of Tartu). At Uus Laine, an atmospheric Tardis-like venue in the heart of the Kalamaja district, seven bands can hardly be put into any category other than country of origin. The program opens with jazz composer Selma Savolainen and her band performing material from the latest album Horror Vacui. The experience is cinematic. Transparent to the extent of watercolor, the music evokes film scores in Polish new wave classics, e.g. Andrzej Trzaskowski's theme from 1959 Night train. Unexpected vocal parts take the listener into uncharted territory suggested by the album's title. A few hours later, the same scene invades Musta Huone, noiseniks from Rovaniemi, based in Helsinki. They take the space “hostage” with the avalanche of sound. The experience is similar to standing under a powerful waterfall of water.

In a showcase curated by the underground festival Blow Up That Gramophone, Finnish experimental jazz trio Virta they play compositions from their album Horros. The ebb and flow of the moody music has a mesmerizing effect. Antti Hevosmaa, Erik Fräki and Heikki Selamo pay attention to texture and performance, so every part – be it flugelhorn, trumpet, guitar or custom percussion – sounds clear. Overall, though, they create an impressionistic picture, with samples, vocals and whistles as contrasting touches.

Crossing venues during Tallinn Music Week, we always find such contrasts in harmony. Being in different worlds in terms of genres, the bands channel their identities and exercise creative freedom through art. From the impeccable and energetic show of the Estonian punk-meets-NWOBHM collective Elukas in the playful and interactive performance of the Tallinn-based art-pop artist Kitty Florentine, the city and its festival are never short of discoveries. There is certainly nothing to blame Mr. Oja for.