Pirita - An Enchanted Slice of Tallinn

A great joy of travel is often to discover the undiscovered gems. In particular, I am always interested in exploring lesser-known neighborhoods in popular cities. Sometimes, when I looked at all the cruise ship passengers in Old Town Tallinn, I felt a little sorry that they missed out on this magnificent city's interesting corners. Tallinn is a city of contrast. Each district has distinct characters; for instance, Lasnamäe is known for Khrushchyovka apartment blocks, and Kadriorg is dotted with expensive villas. Tucked at the northeast corner of Tallinn, the district of Pirita is one of the smallest in population, but it got my nomination as the most surprisingly pleasant corner of the Estonian capital.

One of the aspects I love about Pirita is the preservation of much of its vernacular architecture. The traditional timber structure and the pastel colors are authentically Estonian. Due to its seaside location, many wonderful buildings took on wonderful nautical characters. Many even mix in elements of Functionalist architecture. And more than any other outlying districts of Tallinn, Pirita is also home to many of Tallinn’s best-known sights outside of the Old Town. Here are just some of the most memorable sights during my visit:

Pirita Convent of Bridgettines

The most noted landmark in Pirita is the architectural ruins of a Bridgettine Convent (Pirita Klooster). Bridgettine is a religious order founded by the 14th-century Saint Bridget of Sweden. Her religious teaching was often considered radical and was even referred to by Martin Luther during the Reformation. The convent occupied an idyllic tract of land at the mouth of the Pirita River, donated by the ruling Livonian Order. The monastery fell into decline with the arrival of the Reformation to Estonia. Eventually, the complex was sacked and burned by the troops of Ivan the Terrible in 1577. It remains a burnt-out shell to this day.

Today, little of the massive monastic convent remained. All that was visible today was its impressive late Gothic gable facade and the outer wall. Nevertheless, the architectural shell itself was impressive. At the time of its completion, the abbey church was the largest church in Livonia (a historical territory that once encompassed the extent of modern Estonia and Latvia) and one of the most significant in Northern Europe. The convent was also unique in that it was home to both monks and nuns, albeit segregated and not interacting with each other.

Besides the four walls, I also got to take the stairs to explore cellars and underground chambers. The whole historic section for nuns has been carefully excavated. A selection of uncovered artifacts was on display. But my favorite part of the convent is right in front of the church: a farmer cemetery that developed after the demise of the convent. The late afternoon light of the summer. After all my years of travel, this photo of the Pirita cemetery remains one of my favorite pictures. There was something mystical and awe-inspiring at this place and time.

Today, the convent ruin and surrounding land have been given back to the care of Bridgettine order by the city. In 2001, a modern convent was constructed right next to the ruin. The contemporary structure uses the textured gray-color brick to be sympathetic to the Gothic ruin. Since Estonia is one of the least religious countries in the world, I read that most of the residing nuns nowadays are actually from Mexico and India. If you visited Pirita on the right days during the summer months, this serene ruin became a beautiful venue for outdoor concerts. Interested travelers could even choose to spend a night as a guest of the modern convent.

1980 Moscow Olympics in Tallinn

What drew me to Pirita in the first place was its connection to the Olympic history book. I have loved scouting out former Olympic sites during my travels for a while now. So, I was pleasantly surprised that Tallinn was one of the venues for the 1980 Moscow Olympics. With Moscow being landlocked and hundreds of miles from the shore, the International Olympic Committee mandated the closest alternate venue to the host city. It was never known why Tallinn was chosen over Riga, a more cosmopolitan city on the Baltic coast. Naturally, the Estonian government in exile objected and called for an international boycott. Sixty-five nations eventually declined their participation following the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan the year prior.

Olympic flame cauldron of Moscow Olympics.

Due to the boycott, Tallinn and Estonia never got much of the publicity the Olympics would have typically brought. Surprisingly, Tallinn’s Olympic sites were still largely intact. At the mouth of Pirita River still stood the ceremonial cauldron for the Olympics flame, and it still has the shine it did in 1980. Beneath it were plaques in both Russian and Estonian, commemorating the events and spelling out the date of the Olympic events hosted here. With a convent ruin in the background and a view of Old Tallinn on the horizon, it is not difficult to see why the organizers chose this spot.

The main remnant of the Olympics is the massive Tallinn Olympic Yachting Centre. The building served as the nerve center during the game, hosting various functions from a press center and a 632-bed Olympic village. The futuristic structure is reminiscent of a mothership and is unusual in Estonia, given its colossal scale. The building was designated as a cultural monument of Estonia in 1997 and still functions as a sports center. The original housing for Olympians had since been converted into a hotel and conference center: Pirita Marina Hotel & SPA. While a no-frill establishment, the striking architecture and its unique history would warrant an overnight stay here if I had more time in Tallinn.

The legacy of the Moscow Olympics went well beyond the immediate surroundings of Pirita. Olympics often brought in perks and development, especially when the host country was an authoritarian regime that cared more about propaganda than the well-being of its citizens. Despite an expected boycott by the West, Moscow spared no expense in sprucing up crumbling Old Town Tallinn and upgrading wide-ranging infrastructure projects. Tallinn’s international airport and TV/radio tower were part of this Olympics construction boom.

Despite the boycotts by the West and Estonian diaspora, most Estonians seem to hold Tallinn’s role in the Olympics in high regard. I could imagine that there was a shared civic pride, no matter whether it was organized by the Soviet Union or not. Nearly all Olympics-related monuments and facilities are still in pristine condition, and you can feel the spirit. Most of all, I could feel that the sporting legacy of the Olympics is alive and well in Pirita. In July 2020, the city celebrated the 40th anniversary of the game with great festivities.

One of my favorite memorials in Tallinn was a block from the yachting center: Georg Lurich Monument. The monument was erected in memory of early 20th-century Estonian wrestler Georg Lurich in 1996 to mark the centennial anniversary of the modern Olympic movement. An accomplished athlete, Lurich died at the relatively young age of 43 and has since been mythologized by Estonian society to a cult-like status. The giant granite slab references the wrestling mat, and the black metal silhouette makes a beautiful composition. The small statue, modeled after an earlier work by Amandus Adamson, was so popular with the public that it was stolen ten times in its relatively short existence. A plan has been made to move it to a nearby sports center to protect it from future theft.

A Stroll On Pirita Tee

Although some public bus lines run from central Tallinn to Pirita, the best way to experience Pirita is to walk or bike along the 3-kilometer promenade from the Song Festival Ground (Lauluväljak). The Soviet government constructed this pleasant stretch of road in preparation for the 1980 Olympics, and it remains one of the main arteries to Tallinn’s suburbs. Although it was a busy four-lane expressway, the walk along the waterfront was surprisingly pleasant. I was awarded a picture-perfect panorama view of the skyline of Old Town Tallinn. The steeple of St. Olaf’s Church made Tallinn instantly recognizable.

The most curious and artistically beautiful structure along the road was a stainless steel cube standing upright at a corner. The inscription indicates that the cube was dedicated to “Michael Park.” Of my limited knowledge of the Estonian language, I could confidently guess that this Park is not an Estonian last name. Indeed, he was a British race car driver who lost his life in 2005 as a co-driver to Estonian driver Markko Märtin. The pair achieved great success, and Estonia adopted Park as an honorary citizen.

Another memorial dedicated to a non-Estonian is adjacent to the Michael Park Memorial. Created in 1989 by sculptor Mati Karmin, this seemingly random-looking sculpture is officially entitled: For Brave and Willing People. The sculpture memorializes the life of the 19th-century American balloonist and parachutist Charles Leroux. He was a daredevil of the 19th century and often performed parachute high jumps from conversation balloons. He traveled extensively around Europe and decided to make Tallinn the last tour stop.

As fate had it, Leroux’s balloon was launched among the high winds, and his parachute was swept out toward the Bay of Tallinn. He eventually drowned, and the body was not found until two days later. Today, he is a risk-taker and an innovator in flight. His performance and tragic death inspired a new generation of Estonian aviators and adventurers. Oddly enough, this American balloonist has been regarded as the forefather of Estonian aviation. Morbid or not, this sculpture represents Leroux’s tangled parachute from his final jump.

Mati Karmin’s memorial sculpture to Charles Leroux.

Interestingly, there seemed to be a plethora of memorials here in Estonian for non-Estonians. My logical conjecture is that the goal of many of these memorials is to memorialize Estonia’s fraternity with other nationalities. As a small nation of 1.3 million on NATO’s frontline, making friends worldwide may just be part of the country’s national security strategies.

Maarjamäe Memorial

Right on Pirita Tee is an unmissable Brutalist concrete structure: Maria Hill Memorial. It is perhaps the most massive memorial in town. As an architect, I immediately connected to this spatially sophisticated space. From the gently sloped earthwork to the granite-clad obelisk, the memorial is a superb work of art and a monument to Estonia’s Soviet modernism. It was not until later when I read more about this place, that I found out that Maarjamäe is one of the most controversial memorials in Estonia today.

The obelisk was erected in the 1960s to commemorate the Bolsheviks during the 1918 Russian Civil War. What made it particularly controversial was the fact that the Russian Bolsheviks fought against Estonian nationalists during the conflict. The memorial was an overt political statement by the Soviet authority to stamp out any trace of nationalist sentiments. In the 1970s, the memorial expanded to include much of the landscape and sculpture we see today. The commemoration also extends to Soviet forces that fought against Nazi Germany in World War II.

Naturally, the memorial's future has been a contention in contemporary Estonia. Amazingly, this technically ‘anti-Estonian’ memorial was free of graffiti and vandalism during my visit in 2012. Since then, a big part of the memorial has been fenced off due to structural deficiencies resulting from decades of neglect. Politicians from the far-right Conservative People's Party of Estonia (EKER) have called for the demolition of the memorial. However, the mainstream Estonian political factions are taking a more cautious approach, given Tallinn’s relatively large ethnic Russian population. Many in Estonia still remember the controversy and ensuing violence following the relocation of a Soviet veteran memorial back in 2007. Known as the Bronze Night, the riot ultimately leads to a Russia-backed cyberattack, the first of such an attack on a nation-state.

The hand-shaped relief that once “guarded” the eternal hands during the Soviet years.

So, how did Estonia and Tallinn address this controversial white elephant? Instead of tearing it down, the national government created a ‘counter-memorial just to the north: Memorial to Estonia’s Victims of Communism (Maarjamäe Kommunismiohvrite Mälestusmärk). The design of this new memorial made a conscious reference to the neighboring Soviet memorial but struck a much more somber note. The design has a strong resemblance to the 9/11 Memorial in Jersey City. I wonder whether the Estonians examine the similarities between the two before its approvals. For my next trip to Tallinn, I will beeline to visit the new memorial and the Estonian Film Museum nearby.

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Pirita - An Enchanted Slice of Tallinn

Pirita Convent of Bridgettines

1980 Moscow Olympics in Tallinn

A Stroll On Pirita Tee

Maarjamäe Memorial

An Ode to Finland & Helsinki

The Magic & Trapping of Tallinn