Laulupidu - The Opening Concert
Following the opening parade, it was time for the opening concert of the 27th Laulupidu to begin without any delay. The singers and spectators got into their respective positions within minutes of the parade's end. All 32,000 singers assembled under the Song Arch, and an empty area was cleared from the crowd of 90,000 in the field. I had waited for two years for this moment, yet I still did not know what to expect exactly. Foolishly, I left my program booklet back at the hotel and was too cheap to get another copy for another €7. However, I felt pretty confident with my knowledge of the Estonian music repertoire; I felt that I could at least recognize a few songs and hum them along with Estonians.
Anticipating the gathering of choirs under the Song Arch.
Anticipating the gathering of choirs under the Song Arch.
Once everyone was in place, the program began with the arrival of the relay flame from Kalevi Keskstaadion, the home of Tantsupidu, the Estonian Dance Festival. The flame was carried solemnly into the Song Arch and passed hand by hand into the mass of singers. Eventually, the torch was handed from hand to hand up to the central platform, where head conductors and leaders of the past Laulupidu assembled. Among them were many nationally recognized figures such as Ants Üleoja and Vaike Uibopuu, the first female artistic director of Laulupidu in 1985. Their names were pronounced to raucous applause before the torch was passed down to representatives from each county and special administrative city of Estonia. Eventually, the torch reached Hirvo Surva, the artistic director of 2014 Laulupidu and one of the most beloved choral conductors in the country.
Koit - The Arrival of Dawn
The flame was carried toward the base of the torch tower, where the torch was handed for the final time to Peeter Perens, the artistic director of this Laulupidu. It was wonderful and symbolic of the torch from one song festival to the next. Perens carried the torch up and stopped at the balcony on each level. With each stop, he was joined by two or three conductors from "performing categories" such as symphonic, girl's choir, boy's choir, mixed choirs, and female choir. Of course, these conductors were greeted with enthusiastic applause from the performers. It was almost keen to a popularity contest among different choir groups.
Arrivals of the Laulupidu torch.
It does not take long until Mr. Perens reaches the top of the tower. With the torch in hand, he seems to survey and wait for the start of the first song. Since 1969, Laulupidu has always been open with the singing of Koit, or Dawn in English. Written by Mihkel Lüdig, the short song debuted in 1932 at the Eighth Song Festival, and it is among the favorites of many Estonian singers. The song spoke of the impending sunrise, a triumph of light over darkness. This was the first time I heard the song of mass singing, all 32,000 singers, and many others in the general audience. Even after watching all the online videos of prior festivals, you can't prepare to hear the power of the voices of such masses. At the last bar of the song, the cauldron was lit by the torch to a thunderous ovation.
Following Koit is the performance of the Estonian anthem: Mu isamaa, Mu õnn ja Rõõm. Translated as 'My Fatherland, My Happiness, and Joy,'’ foreigners often confuse the national anthem with the much more famous and beloved song, Mu isamaa on minu arm (My fatherland is my love). Despite its status as the national anthem, Mu isamaa, mu õnn ja rõõm doesn't seem to garner the same emotional connections from Estonian people. Many attribute this to the fact that it shares the same melody, albeit in a different key, as Maamme, the national anthem of Finland. To complicate the issue further, the music of the shared anthem was composed by a German living in Finland.
To be fair, the anthem's melody is beautiful and dignified, as an anthem should be. Although the Estonian anthem is not particularly beloved, its nearly identical melody to its Finnish counterpart came in handy during the period of occupation. Estonians residing along the shore of the Gulf of Finland could get a glimpse of the free West through radio and television broadcasts from Finland, whose national language is mutually intelligible to Estonians. The playing of the Finnish national anthem must have been quite a moving experience for many Soviet Estonians.
To begin the program, the president of the Republic of Estonia made her official remarks. Dressed in a beautiful maroon dress, Kersti Kaljulaid made a short and passionate speech extolling the role of song festivals in the history of the Estonian Republic. Song festivals function as the best way for Estonians to flex their political muscles during the reign of the Russian Empire and the USSR. Of course, as a non-Estonian speaker, I did not understand her speech at the time.
“They (young Estonians) are already singing about the land they love. They are also singing about the fact that happiness only comes to you when you grab it by the tail. These are the songs of Estonians: a glimmer of hope in every moment of sadness and a note of caution on even the happiest of days.”
Being an Estophile, I looked into an English transcription of her speech a few days later. Just as crucial in paying tribute to those who came before, the president paid tribute to all the participants on stage as the future of Estonia.
Address by Kersti Kaljulaid, present of the Republic of Estonia.
President Kaljulaid was a compromise candidate among different political parties. When the parliament (Riigikogu) deadlocked on electing a president after several rounds of voting, Mrs. Kaljulaid was drafted to end the impasse. With her background as a technocrat for the Estonian state and European Union, President Kaljulaid is an effective global advocate for Estonia, particularly in global integration and digital governance. I have seen many of her public speeches and admire her fierce intellect and optimism. She is arguably one of my most admired current heads of state. Her mastery in navigating the madness of the Trump administration is quite a feat in itself. Ironically, her criticism of the Conservative People's Party of Estonia (EKRE), the far-right nationalist party, made her somewhat polarizing in a segment of the Estonian population.
Speaking of hearing from the president, my Estonian celebrity sighting continued. Sitting in the front row and not far from us was Taavi Rõivas, the former prime minister who served in the post from 2014 to 2016. Just two days earlier, we saw Rõivas jogging through the streets of Toompea, not far from the parliament building. Brian was amazed that I could recognize a former prime minister of such a small country. In 2014, the 34-year-old Rõivas became the youngest national leader in Europe. I distinctly remember him greeting President Obama during his official visit to Tallinn in 2014 to address the ever-encroaching Russian military threats to all the former Soviet states. For whatever reason, the dueling young leaders made a deep impression on me. In Obama’s official speech in Tallinn, he even suggested that he should not miss out on the next Laulupidu (this one!). Before our trip, I kept my eyes on any news of Obama’s attendance. Unfortunately, that promise was just an aspiration, not a commitment.
The crowd has been fully assembled.
Quite a few audience members were also in traditional national costume.
Former prime minister, Taavi Rõivas.
Another celebrity sighting came quite a little bit later. After returning to New York, we watched the documentary Singing Revolution, which we highly recommend. As I went through our photos one day, I suddenly noticed a familiar face in a few of my pictures. It took me a few minutes of research to figure out that the couple in my photos are Tunne Kelam and Mari-Ann Kelam, who both appeared in the film Singing Revolution. Tunne Kelam is the former Estonian MP of the European Parliament, whose term only ended a week ago before Laulupidu. Mari-Ann Kelam is the former Vice President of the Estonian American National Council and a very outspoken public advocate for Estonia in the United States during Soviet occupation. I wish I knew who they were then, and I would have come up to say hello and get a picture with them.
Õpetajale - To Our Teacher
This opening concert was entitled To Our Teacher (Õpetajale). The program repertoire paid tribute to all the previous music teachers and conductors. Per customary programming, the opening concert tends to be far more cerebral and academic in nature. Although I have listened to countless hours of songs from previous festivals, I can’t say I could recognize a single song from the concert's first half. Ranging from operatic aria to performance by the Estonian National Symphony Orchestra, this portion of the program focused on the works of composers born in the late 19th and early 20th century. As a result, the music seemed more classical and lacked the popular beats from the rock period. With very few exceptions like Ester Mägi and Arvo Pärt, most composers on the program have long passed on. At the beginning of each piece, the composer's image was projected onto the Song Arch's ceiling. At first, it was not apparent because of the bright evening sky. I noticed the projected images only a few songs into the program. Note before long, it has become a collage of faces.
The joint choir.
As a dedication to all the Estonian composers and choirmasters who came before, the program includes unusual choices, such as Procession of the Nobles (from Mlada) by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. I wondered why a famed Russian national romantic composer would be featured in this proudly all-Estonian event. It was not until I read the official program that I understood that Rimsky-Korsakov was an important mentor to many Estonian composers in Estonia’s national awakening period. I did the inclusion of a Russian composer to be reassuring. Despite the historical acrimony between the two countries, Russia and Estonia’s shared cultural patrimony is often swept aside in the age of nationalism.
The first song that truly grabbed my attention and put me in awe was Me Oleme Põhjamaa Lapsed (We Are Children of the North) by Evald Aava. This song starts with a long musical interlude and has a note of sorrow that is distinctive in Estonian. Although I am no musicologist, I find that Estonia's music reflects the common traits of Estonian people: reserved, joyful, yet soulful. The lyrics of this song speak to the reserved and introverted nature of Estonian people; the joy and sorrow of Estonia are often hidden underneath the stoic facade. Yet, these emotions were held in greatest depth and “as fresh as the nordic snow”. Musically, the short song delivered a bittersweet resonance, and the powerful final note sent a chill down my spine.
For us, the song is also memorable for another reason. At the song's start, a stream of singers came out of the tunnels of the Song Arch and proceeded to line the aisle of the reserved seating area. This allows us to hear many singers up close; it provides a different resonance in hearing mass singing up close and afar. Luckily, we were seated near the aisle and got up close with singers from the Estonian Students' Society (Eesti Üliõpilaste Selts). Dressed in their trademark jacket and student caps in Estonian blue color, these singers represent the country's largest and oldest student fraternity organization.
Interestingly, Estonia’s tricolor blue, black, and white national flag was first conceived as the Estonian Student’s Society's flag in 1884. When the Republic of Estonia was proclaimed in 1918, the flag from the student organization was adopted as the national flag of all Estonia. Today, the original tricolor flag is permanently displayed at the National Estonian Museum in Tartu. I remember watching the subsequent ERR broadcast of Laulupidu and seeing these guys in the crowd; it brought me many memories and fondness.
Üksi pole keegi - No One Is Alone
Following Me Oleme Põhjamaa Lapsed is the most anticipated song of the evening. For every concert. a signature piece is commissioned to be the marquee piece sung by the joint choirs of all 30,000 singers. Titled Üksi Pole Keegi (No One Is Alone), the song is based on traditional runic songs from the parish of Kuusalu. The tradition of runic singing (regilaul) was indigenous to the Finno-Ugric people and is the backbone of Estonia’s folk singing tradition. The melody and lyrics are passed between the choir and lead soloist, and it is the classic “call and response” form of folk singing. The repetition of simple melodies allowed even non-Estonians like us to sing along with the choir. It didn’t take long for me to understand why this song was selected for this concert's featured song.
The choir of Estonian Students' Society (Eesti Üliõpilaste Selts).
Sea of Estonian flags among the singers.
Written by Tauno Aints with the lyric of Urve Tinnur, the haunting melody evokes the image of Estonia’s pagan past and the sense of collective unity passed down through the millennium. The song was headlined by Lauri Õunapuu, who I recognized from a video of a night song festival (Öölaulupidu). Like so many other songs, the encore performance followed after the roaring cheers from the choirs themselves.
As the song's title may suggest, the song's message is identical to the song festival's. Some have described Laulupidu as the birth certificate of the Estonian people. Inclusivity is the key to the song festival’s longevity and continued relevance in today’s Estonia. “No one is alone” is a simple yet powerful message that encapsulates the spirit of the Singing Revolution and the ideal of contemporary society.
“Were snakes to bite us, were evil lips to curse us, we’re being watched over by the four, four winds.
They’ll come and visit us; Spirits of the lost and the dear. We’ll be greeted by our fellows and kin.
Fellows and kin, patting us on our backs
Smiling, smiling lightly; Standing with us against evil.
From close, from close, and from far, they even dry, as they hold us the tears, the tears from our eyes. Among the good and the close, no one, no one is alone. No one is alone.”
Coming from an individualistic-centered society like the United States, where social inclusion often took the backseat to individual success, the slogan “No one is alone” seems such a distant dream. Although song festivals played such political importance in Estonia's history, this tradition's long survival and longevity may hinge on staying clear of today's partisan politics. Laulupidu belongs to all citizens of Estonia, and we were fortunate enough to witness such a beautiful and inclusive event.
Kungla Rahvas - Let’s Sing In The Woods
They often say that people save the best for the last, and I agree. Following Üksi Pole Keegi, the program is followed by two songs by late 19th-century composer Karl August Hermann. A cultural giant of the national awakening period, Hermann achieved many of the first for Estonian-speaking people. He published the first Estonian encyclopedia and established the first Estonian language newspaper, Pärnu Postimees, which is still circulated today. In addition, he was a prolific composer and the general artistic director for four different song festivals. The first song of his this evening was Puud Ma Laulan Haljusesse (Sing Leaves Onto Trees). The song is based on an old folk song and speaks about the beauty of the world and the need for all of us to cherish the beauty of this land for the next generation. While we may not understand the lyric, the joyful emotion of this song is unmistakable. Like Me Oleme Põhjamaa Lapsed, the song's resonance was exhilarating and humbling.
Raul Talmar conducted Kungla Rahvas.
The second song of Karl August Hermann was also the last song on tonight’s program: Kungla Rahvas (the Land of the Kunglas). This song is among the most well-known songs and a crowd’s favorite. The song was selected from the opera Uku and Vanemuine, and it is about the mythical tribe of Kunglas people from the land of happiness. The song speaks about how the God of Songs (Vanemuine) accompanies Kinglas people with songs and music. The joy of music was not limited to the Kunglas, but also to every tree, bird, and all throughout the Estonian land. There was no more appropriate song to end the night. The recurring chorus line of the song is a call; “let’s go play in the woods, and let’s go sing in the woods!” As I looked around the Song Festival Ground, which is surrounded by woods, I felt a deep sense of joy and was incredibly privileged to witness such a historical tradition.
To finish the night the night's final song was Kodumaa, another crowd favorite. The piece was conducted by Neeme Järvi, an internationally renowned conductor who, for some years, was the director of our hometown orchestra, the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra (NJSO). The song was a joyful and fun send-off into the night. Responding to the upbeat musical march, singers and audience alike raised their hats or flags in unison with the beats. The concert was fully transformed into a party. The term Laulupidu translates into “song party.” It celebrates Estonian culture for all Estonians and foreigners like us.
A Time For Self-Reflection
Eventually, all good things came to an end. After a long day, the crowd dissipated surprisingly quickly, as they knew that tomorrow's main 7-hour concert was still ahead. As the singers left the stage, we suddenly realized we were seriously starved. The music and constant adrenaline of the day made us forget all the hunger and exhaustion. We looked down at our phones at 10:25 pm and were both starving. Thankfully, a couple of the food vendors within the Song Festival Ground were only just closing up. We managed to get a big plate of grilled salmon and potato for just €6. It was easily one of the best value of money we got for our whole trip. Although the Baltic may not have the most stellar culinary reputation, we have never had a bad meal in Estonia, even at Laulupidu.
It was interesting how quickly the crowds dissipated.
The projection of varioous Estonian composers.
By the time we finished our plate of food, the song festival ground has emptied out almost entirely. In the space of half an hour, the ground has been cleared of all trash and returns to its original pristine state. Rows of bleachers were rearranged nearly; all litters were picked up. Honestly, part of the joy of attending Laulupidu is to marvel at the efficiency and know-how of the organizational logistics of Estonians. Indeed, the Soviet occupiers were also impressed by the organization of Laulupidu, they actually asked Estonians to advise other Soviet republics to create similar events to boost the cultural life and Soviet pride across the union. As an American, I could only imagine what would be the state of the ground if a similar event was held in places like Chicago or New York.
The tower of Lauluväljak.
The tower of Lauluväljak.
As we left the Song Festival Ground, I looked back at the torch tower and saw the glowing fire. It suddenly dawned on me that this magnificent tower was only lit once every five years, and it was a real blessing to see it against such a beautiful nordic sky. For just a moment, the setting also transported me back to 2012, when I first visited the Song Festival Ground. Back then, I had no idea I will return back to this place under such a wonderful and beautiful circumstance. On the way out, we saw the magnificent Russalka Memorial, which we passed through during the opening parade just earlier in the day. The elegant memorial, created by Estonian sculptor, Amandus Adamson, featured an angel overlooking the Bay of Finland. The sculpture commemorates the sinking of 1893 sinking of the Russian imperial warship, Rusalka. While a memorial of a Russian naval vessel, the memorial also has great significance for Estonians. It was actually the first major public monument designed by Estonian here in their native land.
Russalka Memorial.
It was a solid 45-minute walk from Song Festival Ground back to our hotel in central Tallinn. Although they do offer shuttle service ferrying people back to the city center, we conclude that it may be faster to just walk backtracing the parade route from earlier. Along the way, many participants along the road were singing their songs. Unsurprisingly, the popular choice among them is Üksi pole keegi. As the melodic tune filled the streets, and physical exhaustion was whipped away with joy. Truthfully, I felt like my emotion was full and the thought of a 7-year concert extravaganza overwhelmed me. Luckily, we got to sleep in the morning and be mentally for the grand finale.
