City Perspectives, Riga. (LV)
- ulisse28mi
- Feb 21, 2022
- 8 min read
Updated: Feb 21, 2022
I first saw Riga at night, in the car, on the way from the airport to my room in Miera Iela. I have blurred images of the city: the silhouette of a bridge and the river, nothing else.
Upon waking up, I immediately wanted to explore the city streets, but without setting myself a particular goal to reach, I only knew that, sooner or later, I would find myself in front of the Daugava River, the distinctive emblem of the cityscape. As I walked, I immediately realized that the city has no fixed architectural and urban structure, but is a mosaic of aesthetic cues drawn from Soviet, German and Scandinavian influences.
If I had to describe the streets and buildings of Riga with one word, I think it would have to be "Sublime Oblivion". My eyes remained glued, fascinated, to the decorative canvases of the great palaces, precious witnesses of a proud past, but troubled and shared with blood by the expansionist desires of the European powers.
Riga, in fact, has been the victim of numerous acts of devastation and conquest, from its foundation in the High Middle Ages, through the bombings suffered during the two World Wars, which razed to the ground most of the current historical center, up to the oppression and fall of the USSR in 1991. A history of destruction and rebirth that produces today that tangible aura of serene and vibrant stability, that race to progress and modernity, apparently free and independent, which yields, however, every day, to the compromises of industrialization and globalization, influenced, in the case of Latvia, mainly by Russian economic policies.
Already during my first day I perceived this hint of fictitious calm, but I was able to confirm it only thanks to the prolonged interaction with the locals and experiencing firsthand the daily reality of Latvian work.
From a naturalistic and climatic point of view, especially along the banks of the Daugava, Riga offers an incredible spectacle of the embrace between man and nature: imagine a long blue strip, now vast and inexorable, rippled by small foamy waves, now static and mute, motionless in its splendid glacial whiteness, reflecting the moods of the speckled sky, white and blue, painted by the breath of the boreal winds. Everything, finally, is framed by the needled silhouettes of the churches, castles and city skyscrapers and encircled by the long mechanical arms of the bridges that span the river.
The instability of Riga's weather is truly amazing; I have this vivid memory of myself, stopped at a traffic light, under the sun; and how, crossing the street, I was hit by hailstones as big as two euro coins, only to become sunny again a few steps away from the sidewalk.
In that precise instant, dazed by the vehemence of the weather elements, but smiling, I became genuinely and deeply fascinated by the city and its streets, eternal stages of stories and human lives.
In the course of this article I will recount my stay in Riga, which lasted about eight months and took place over three seasons, dwelling on the places that have not only characterized my photographic and artistic production, but where, above all, I left my heart.
Miera Iela and surroundings
The center of my city life is Miera Iela, "the Street of Peace". A parallel street to the long and busy Brivibas Iela, about twenty minutes walk from the Old Town.
Here, the residents and the activities of the street often belong to the hipster culture or adhere to artistic projects and solidarity: a safe corner where to express their creativity in peace, away from the hectic pace of the metropolis.
I fondly remember the snowball fights in the middle of the street on Christmas morning and the smiles of the people who, during the first spring days, read and enjoyed the sun on the sidewalk, sitting on chairs and armchairs brought from home.
Miera Iela housed historical buildings such as the Laima chocolate factory, demolished at the end of last year, and the Repeat Tallinas cultural center, promoter of exhibitions, markets, festivals and concerts. Unfortunately, I was only able to attend some of them because of the long stop caused by the pandemic.
Much of my photographic production and my friendships were born along the sidewalks of Miera Iela; I can only thank with admiration the bright inhabitants of Peace.
Going through all Brivibas Iela you get to Independence Square where Milda, the statue of liberty, opens the gates of the old town, the city center and center of tourist and commercial activities.
The atmosphere that you breathe walking through the medieval alleys is certainly suggestive: there are museums, old stores, churches and, of course, a lot of tourists. For this reason, therefore, I consider the Old Town a recommended stop, but not necessary to live an authentic experience of Latvian culture.
The most beautiful images of winter are those that immortalize people and children while having fun in the snow, sliding on sleds in the public gardens near the Statue of Liberty, and then mingling, laughing, with the glittering Christmas decorations. Absolutely unforgettable, finally, the walks after sunset through the white snowy streets, softly illuminated by street lamps, listening to the melodies of street minstrels and sipping hot chocolate. A lovely Christmas fairy tale come true, but, in the long run, cloying.
Ziedoņdārzs, the park next to home
I am very attached to this place, because it accompanied me in the last days of my adventure in Latvia. With the rising temperatures, in fact, I often took refuge there to try to realize that the trip was coming to an end, that I would soon have to say goodbye to the city and to an important chapter of my life.
A beautiful garden, a green oasis that emerged, as if by magic, from the frenetic chaos of the city. I remember, in particular, a bench in front of a fountain, where many people were reading and listening to music, enjoying the long-awaited spring torpor, after the long, cold winter.
At that moment I really felt in harmony with the others, there was the perception of a general peace, shared and sealed by everyone, with nods, greetings and smiles.
Actually, the whole neighborhood around the park hosts picturesque places, such as markets and stalls, where you can taste typical foods at bargain prices, sports fields, bmx tracks, skateboard ramps and, above all, colorful arrays of wooden houses that color and brighten the elaborate urban landscape.
Origo and Central Market
I consider Riga to be a safe city, even if, as in most large metropolises, special attention must be paid to the area around Origo, the shopping center of the main train station, and the city's Central Market.
All the tension accumulated by the neighborhood exploded one morning in April when, while I was on my way to catch the train, I was blocked by an almost apocalyptic scenario: the street, in fact, had been blocked off by the firemen and the police because the top floor of a building, a few meters from the station, had burned down and all that was left was a frightening black blob, a ghostly reminder of some criminal action.
The environment of the place shows a raw reality, but no less interesting. Once, for example, to the amazement of passers-by, I saw a beggar selling fresh eggs surrounded by at least ten chickens scattered on the sidewalk on the loose; in recent years, moreover, cooperatives of volunteers have been activated to rehabilitate the neighborhood with solidarity projects and give a new life to the structures and residents. An important sign of social and cultural redemption that bodes well for the future.
Daugava's banks
Along the river I had the opportunity to know, for the first time, the youth reality of Riga.
On a sunny afternoon in March, while I was near a skateboard ramp, some bikers approached me and started doing tricks with their bikes, jumping several meters over concrete blocks, and balancing on steel railings. Intrigued, I start talking to them and they tell me that young Latvians are great nature lovers and excel, especially in sports such as bmx, skating and skiing. Because of the Nordic climate, in fact, they have been accustomed since childhood to make the most of opportunities to play and train outdoors because they know that the dark and long winter will force them, with the exception of skiing, to stay indoors most of the time.
After greeting them and taking a few photos, I head towards the bridge to reach the other side of the Daugava, a border that I had always considered insurmountable.
I thought, in fact, that the city would end and that I would get lost in some industrial complex. Instead I was wrong, from the other side, in fact, you can see a wonderful panorama of the Old Town skyline and then, going inland, you discover many different urban scenarios including, the most interesting, the Victory Park. A huge monument built by the Russians after the Second World War that still arouses great tension and acts of claim between the Russian and Latvian citizens of Riga.
I came here the first time because I wanted to choose a new destination for my jogging session. I saw on google maps a huge green space, so I confirmed it without much question as my final destination.
The park is located about four miles from home. Along the way you meet very different urban scenarios: the end of Miera Iela, then, skirting the streetcar line, you pass gardens, cemeteries and enter the gray industrial area, large warehouses, rusty tanks and a long endless row of Soviet apartment buildings. In short, a desolating trip through the mud, necessary, however, to reach the most fascinating and magical place in the city: Mezaparks.
The entrance to the park seems to be frozen in time, a precious postcard of the nineteenth century: a large and lush tree-lined avenue bounds the picturesque city zoo, while the ancient and wonderful forest houses within it the open-air amphitheater and numerous works of art scattered among the trees. Finally, at the end of the main path, on the right, along a secondary driveway, paradise.
I still remember my run while I observe with wonder the surrounding environment, and then, from afar, I catch a glimpse of something immense, flat, white, infinite. My steps increase, my heartbeats multiply, I speed up, speed up, I want to understand what is glimpsed behind the trees, then stop; silence. My eyes fill with wonder and leave room for the imagination that only the sight of a large frozen lake, glistening under the rays of the winter sun, can give.
The emotion aroused by that breathtaking view is still very intense in me. A feeling of peace, of having accomplished something important, of having arrived.
I start to breathe again, walk towards the pretty wooden pier and sit at the end, on a bench, admiring the wonders of the Earth.
Riga, Pearl of the Baltic
To conclude, Riga is not an empty shell of streets and concrete, but a real living organism. As you can see in my photographic production, in fact, the city radically changes its aspect and shape according to the period and the climate, it lives and transforms with its inhabitants, challenging the elements of Nature head-on.
Riga is not immobile, static, but it adapts, evolves, dies and is reborn in different historical periods, each time with new customs and traditions. Riga is not stagnant, closed, limited by fixed socio-cultural structures, Riga is paradox, contrast. Riga is the light, the ice, it is the great Daugava that connects, that unites, that unifies, in its inexorable flow, all of Latvia and, throwing itself into the Baltic Sea, opens to the World.
Liels paldies, manas mīļās mājas.
Leonardo Calò
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