The Best Form Estonia’s Singing Revolution
Finland, which shares the linguistic and cultural lineage with Estonia, is world-renowned for having one of the most prolific Hard Rock music scene. As you crossed the Gulf of Finland from Helsinki, the difference in musical tradition could not be starker. The choral tradition in Estonia plays a particularly integral part in the modern Estonian identity. Through songs, the Estonian language and literary traditions survived through the successive rules by neighboring powers.
Cemetery at Pirita Convent outside of central Tallinn.
Just as important as the songs are how Estonia prepared for the quinquennial festival celebration. The Laulupidu repertoire was announced two years ahead of time. Each song was conducted by a separate conductor, who would travel across the country to rehearse their assigned piece with individual local choral groups over the course of two years. In Estonia, conductors are greeted like rock stars, perhaps because they have established an intimate emotional connection with every singer. The overall mood of Laulupidu is that of genuine happiness and national longing.
In comparison to neighboring Latvia and Lithuania, the repertoire of the Estonian Song Festival is decidedly modern in sound and youthful in spirit, with traditional folk songs making up only roughly 15% of the program in the 2014 Laulupidu. Following my previous post about the Estonian Song Festival, Laulupidu, I have decided to share some of my favorite songs from the momentous years of the Singing Revolution:
Mu Isamaa On Minu Arm (My Fatherland is My Love)
Often referred to as the "unofficial anthem" of Estonia, Mu isama on minu arm has been performed at every Laulupidu since its premiere in the 12th Estonian Song Festival of 1947. No other song is more emotional and historically significant in modern Estonia. Its lyrics come from a poem written during the "Great Awakening" by national poet Lydia Koidula. The poem was set to music for the first song festival (Laulupidu) in 1869. The lyrics’ importance was magnified when Gustav Ernesaks set them to new music in 1947 for the first song festival allowed under Stalinist rule. The song slipped by the Soviet censors, and after two days of singing compulsory Russian songs glorifying Marx, Lenin, and Stalin, Estonians all sang Mu isamaa on minu arm in their native tongue, with the common and unspoken knowledge that it expressed hope for a free Estonia.
The song was not allowed on the song festival program in the 1950s. But then, in the early 1960s, Estonians started defiantly singing the song against Soviet wishes, and by 1965, it was included in the program. At the hundredth anniversary of the song festival in 1969, the choirs on stage and the audience also started singing Mu isamaa on minu arm a second time in the face of stern Soviet orders to leave the stage. No one did. The Soviets ordered a military band to play and drown out the singers. But a hundred instruments are no match for over a hundred thousand singers. The song was sung repeatedly in the face of authorities. There was nothing the Soviets could do but invite the composer on stage to conduct the choir for yet another encore and pretend they intended to allow this all along. Mu isamaa on minu arm was never forbidden again. It is truly the song that united Estonia during decades of foreign occupation.
Ta Lendab Mesipuu Poole (He Flies Towards the Beehive)
Aside from Mu Isamaa On Minu Arm, nowadays, only a few other songs have been performed in every Laulupidu since the end of the Soviet occupation. If Mu Isamaa has been regarded as the most important song for Estonians, Ta Lendab Mesipuu Poole is the most beloved without any question. The song invokes a genuine sense of warmth and melancholy. Like the homing bees, Estonians see their homeland as their physical and spiritual destiny. As one of the smallest European countries, it also has one of the highest percentages of citizens working abroad. Even as a non-Estonian, the power of this song often brings tears to my eyes. I could only imagine how powerful it is for Estonian expatriates.
Isamaa Ilu Hoieldes (Cherish the Beauty of Our Fatherland)
Written in 1988, Isamaa illu hoieldes was one of the five great patriotic songs written by Alo Mattisen during the year of the Singing Revolution. It is the most significant rock song and a manifestation of the revolutionary decade in Estonia. The lyric possesses the primordial power to have today pressed the timeless seal of Estonians' national self-awareness. The seemingly overt anti-Soviet sentiment has made it one of the most popular songs in modern Estonia, particularly during regional conflicts.
Honestly, it is my favorite Estonian song to this date! Like many contemporary Estonian songs, part of the lyrics were taken from the literary works of the past; the same lyrics have also been set to an earlier song. In the case of Isamaa illu hoielde, part of the lyric was lifted from Kalevipoeg, the 19th-century Estonian national epic by Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald. The song was a call to action for all Estonian people in self-identification. One must "believe in yourself, and then you believe in people" before "you get a better generation'. It was a direct rebuke to the old belief system, in which the collective identity of Soviet citizens was fundamental. Twenty-five years on, the song remains a popular reminder of the continued struggle in modern Estonia.
Sind Surmani (Until Death)
Originally by Alexander Kuniles and set to a poem by Lydia Koidula, Sind Surmani has been one of the most frequently performed pieces in Laulupidu. The song was among the songs performed during the first-ever Laulupidu at Tartu in 1869. The song was eventually rearranged in a limited fashion by Alo Mattissen and incorporated as one of his "Five Native Songs." It is among the most beautiful songs in Laulupidu’s repertoire. Check out a beautiful 2016 rendition of Sind Surmani by Ott Lepland and Mariita Mattiisen in honor of Alo Mattiisen.
Eesti Muld ja Eesti Süda (Estonian Soil & Estonian Heart)
Written in 1982 for the popular and controversial (in the eye of the Soviet authority) rock band Ruja, this soulful love song to Estonia has a special sublime simplicity in its words and melody. The song enjoyed limited success following Rein Rennap’s exile to the West in 1987. Although technically not considered a song of the Singing Revolution, the song has enjoyed a strong resurgence in recent years. The song made its first debut at Laulupidu in 2017. To the composer's surprise, the song is surprisingly well adapted to the format of mass singing. In the past year, it has been elevated as a possible replacement for the current national anthem. Incidentally, the text of the current anthem, Mu isamaa, mu õnn ja rõõm, was written by the father of Lydia Koidula.
Eestlane Olen Ja Eestlaseks Jään (I Am Estonian and I Will Remain Estonian)
"To begin anew for the thousandth time again, a thousand years of rising, is not a swan's flight. To hide your nationality is as bad as succumbing to slavery." These are the opening lines of this iconic patriotic song, another of the “Five Native Songs” by Alo Mattiisen. The melody is surprisingly simple and monotonous, but its power comes from mass singing and the sense of “togetherness.” Its simplicity also made it one of the most widely known songs of the Singing Revolution. Of course, what does it mean to be an Estonian in the modern era? In this increasingly global economy and the freedom of movement within the European Union, the ethnic Estonian identity is often under threat not from foreign military invasion but from within. But this song reminds us that the freedom of one's identity and destiny is a privilege that must be cherished and safeguarded.
Koit (Dawn)
Koit was written (both lyrics and music) and performed by singer-songwriter Tõnis Mägi, one of the most acclaimed pop-rock artists in Estonia to this day, who, in the 1980s, was famous all over the Soviet Union and its Eastern European satellite states (esp. in Hungary, Poland, Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia). Koit is organized as a gradual build-up in sound and volume, thus creating the impression that could be described as forces coming from a distance and moving closer and closer while gradually growing in numbers. The effect is similar to Maurice Ravel’s Boléro. While the steady beats of the snare drum convey the sense of a gradual march of progress and eventuality, the interjection of blaring brass is a call to arm to the impending struggles.
For many scholars and historians of Estonia, the mass singing traditions installed a culture of discipline and level headedness. The Bolero-like musical theme of Koit conveyed this idea brilliantly. The song is as passionate as it is calm. True to the Estonian tradition, the lyric is void of reference to the hero or glory of the past. Instead, the reference to nature and the Estonian landscape transcended the day's politics. It is not until the song's last sentence that the song's true intent is revealed.
