curator<\/em>?<\/p>\nBut I wanted to ask you, Gundega \u2013 how was the New Theatre Institute of Latvia created? And is it even an institution?<\/p>\n
Gundega:<\/strong>\u00a0I mean, it depends on what we mean by \u201cinstitution.\u201d I think a festival\u00a0is<\/em>\u00a0an institution. But again, how do we define that word? I think we should look at the idea of an institution with more freedom. An institution isn\u2019t necessarily a building or a structure that receives public funding \u2013 there\u2019s much more diversity within that concept.<\/p>\nThe Institute began because there was such a strong desire to do more than\u00a0just<\/em>\u00a0a festival. The festival has always been the central reference point, but gradually it branched out into various processes that required attention and care every day.<\/p>\nThere was so much to be done at that time, because nothing existed yet. You had to build an entirely new cultural policy, to redefine how we even talk about contemporary theatre forms. And the Institute was full of young people who were super eager to do all that. So it was established as a legal body \u2013 a structure that made all those activities possible.<\/p>\n
And it just kept growing and growing\u2026 until we almost swallowed ourselves. We were sinking under the weight of everything we were doing. We created\u00a0Homo Alibi<\/em>, which at one point grew just as big as\u00a0Homo Novus<\/em>. People were asking, \u201cWhy do you have two festivals with the same name?\u201d There was this incredible thirst \u2013 or maybe even greed \u2013 to do more and more. Hopefully in a good way. So that\u2019s the Institute. But I think your case is similar, Reinis.<\/p>\nReinis:<\/strong>\u00a0Yes, I wanted to continue. It turned out that the Valmiera Summer Theatre festival is really important for the audience. We\u2019re only 10 years old, but we\u2019ve already become important for the local community. And that\u2019s our main audience \u2013 not only the spectators, but also local businesses. They now want to support us, or they invite us to collaborate with them. They enjoy culture and theatre \u2013 they go to theatre in winter, and in summer they love that the theatre is happening right there in their town. That\u2019s one thing.<\/p>\nAnd of course, it was a great joy to bring artists together to create site-specific performances \u2013 using knowledge and experience we gained from\u00a0Homo Novus<\/em>\u00a0and other places. But at one point, we realized that we wanted to make theatre for children. One of our directors, J\u0101nis Znoti\u0146\u0161, focuses a lot on children\u2019s theatre, and we understood that if we wanted to build a whole programme around this kind of work, we had to ask big questions about quality. After the first year, we started an educational programme \u2013 exploring\u00a0how<\/em>\u00a0to make theatre for children and what you need to know. Not just artistic ideas, but also pedagogical understanding.<\/p>\nAbout 10 years ago, there was still this common belief that if you were a bad theatre director, you did theatre for children; and if you were a bad actor in a drama theatre, you went to the puppet theatre. From today\u2019s perspective, that\u2019s mind-blowing \u2013 but that\u2019s how it was back then. The Kids and Youth Theatre Institute became a way to bring more\u00a0prestige<\/em>\u00a0to children\u2019s and youth theatre. We decided that every second edition of the festival would focus on this kind of work.<\/p>\nAnd then we focused the programme \u2013 one year, the festival was dedicated entirely to this kind of theatre. And over the years, it became clear that children\u2019s and youth theatre is actually great \u2013 and I wanted to do more of it. But we also realized we needed to\u00a0learn<\/em>\u00a0\u2013 to understand how differently you have to think when creating something for a 7-year-old, for example.<\/p>\nSanta:<\/strong>\u00a0So the festival is also an educational and experimental platform, in a way.<\/p>\nReinis:<\/strong>\u00a0Yes, exactly. And through the Institute, we also saw an opportunity to build an international network. Because for a festival, it\u2019s important to have international connections. But none of us were really interested in just bringing in ready-made site-specific shows. When you present work in the countryside, the attitude is often like, \u201cOh, if it\u2019s a Latvian show, I\u2019ll go see it. But if it\u2019s\u2026 say, Slovenian \u2013 hmm, I\u2019m not sure what that will be.\u201d<\/p>\nBut with children\u2019s and youth theatre, we quickly realized it\u2019s different. For example, in Estonia there\u2019s\u00a0ZUGA<\/em>, a theatre company that focuses on work\u00a0with<\/em>\u00a0children, and in there is Hanna Bylka-Kanecka from the Holobiont Collective in Poland, artist who is creating participatory performances with active audience involvement. There was a great opportunity to bring specialists from abroad to collaborate with our artists \u2013 to create new pieces together, with new ways of thinking. And that\u2019s what started happening.<\/p>\nSanta:<\/strong>\u00a0How would you describe the proportion of international work in Valmiera\u2019s festival?<\/p>\nReinis:<\/strong>\u00a0It varies, but we try to keep it around 20\u201330% international collaborations.<\/p>\nSanta:<\/strong>\u00a0That\u2019s something that puzzles me \u2013 we put so much effort into bringing international performances, and it\u2019s getting more and more expensive. Yet local Latvian shows sell out immediately, while for international ones people are hesitant. I suppose when the festival first started, it was the opposite \u2013 people were\u00a0eager<\/em>\u00a0to see international work because it was something rare. Now it feels like the pendulum has swung all the way to the other extreme.<\/p>\nGundega:<\/strong>\u00a0But it\u2019s still lacking. You can\u2019t really say there\u2019s a lot of international work.<\/p>\nSanta:<\/strong>\u00a0That\u2019s exactly my question \u2013 what\u2019s happening? Maybe Armands has some answers.<\/p>\nArmands:<\/strong>\u00a0I believe it\u2019s a question of how we advertise things. Because mostly, people don\u2019t buy tickets for things they don\u2019t know. In our case, the best approach has been to sell the festival itself, not the individual artists or performances. We sell the\u00a0feeling<\/em>\u00a0of the festival \u2013 the atmosphere they will experience there. And I think that\u2019s been, let\u2019s say, our success story.<\/p>\nIf we try to promote specific artists, it\u2019s much harder. For example, we once brought an opera singer \u2013 a rising star in Europe \u2013 and even rented the Opera hall for her performance. But later, when I spoke with Sandis Voldi\u0146\u0161, who\u2019s now the director of the Latvian National Opera and Ballet, he pointed out that it\u2019s really about the audience. Because the Opera House audience is not\u00a0our<\/em>\u00a0audience. Our audience comes for the\u00a0feeling<\/em>\u00a0of the festival, not for particular stars.<\/p>\nReinis:<\/strong>\u00a0We do the same \u2013 we sell the atmosphere and the name of the Valmiera Summer Theatre Festival. Our audience first thinks, \u201cOh, we\u2019re going to Valmiera Summer Theatre Festival!\u201d and then they decide which shows they\u2019ll see.<\/p>\nSanta:<\/strong>\u00a0That makes sense \u2013 it\u2019s also a feature of smaller places, away from the capital. Like in\u00a0Opti\u017e\u016bns<\/em>\u00a0\u2013 there\u2019s nothing else happening in that forest, so you see\u00a0all<\/em>\u00a0the shows. But in Riga, the festival coincides with the start of the theatre season. People can\u2019t make it to everything, because so much is happening at the same time. We\u2019ve started to wonder if maybe September isn\u2019t actually the best time for the festival.<\/p>\nPriit:<\/strong>\u00a0Yes, in a big city, it\u2019s very hard to sell tickets. And why? Because the theatres are running their regular programmes at the same time. People have options \u2013 they\u2019re going to other shows. We also sell the\u00a0Baltoscandal<\/em>\u00a0festival, but the problem there is that it only lasts four days. So the maximum number of festival passes we can sell equals the capacity of our smallest venue \u2013 often just 30 people. And that\u2019s it. We sell passes without giving out any information about the programme \u2013 only the dates \u2013 and they sell out right away. But since it\u2019s only 20 or 30 passes, it doesn\u2019t really help much. In a smaller place like Rakvere \u2013 similar to Valmiera \u2013 that model can work. But in Tallinn, it\u2019s not possible, because there\u2019s always something else happening. You can\u2019t really claim that what you\u2019re doing is somehow better than the event next door.<\/p>\nMarta:<\/strong>\u00a0Maybe I could add two things here. One is what you already said \u2013 that we tend to listen to the songs we already know. But I think there\u2019s also a bigger phenomenon at play, a social and political one \u2013 this tendency to return to our own field, to what we know, to where we feel more or less comfortable, trusting the names we already recognize.<\/p>\nIt\u2019s a big word to use, but if you imagine a whole spectrum of national \u2013 or however we might call them \u2013 tendencies, then this is somewhere within that spectrum. It\u2019s a consequence of the social tendency to withdraw into closest communities or internet bubbles. For example, in Poland between 2015 and 2023, when we had the extremely right-wing government, one of the main changes \u2013 besides replacing many leaders of the artistic institutions \u2013 was that the international programmes of festivals began to shrink.<\/p>\n
There were years when those programmes disappeared almost completely.\u00a0Konfrontacje<\/em>, which we used to run as an international festival, has been mostly national for the last years. And it\u2019s not even that the government directly decided that. It happened\u00a0before<\/em>\u00a0any official decision or public statement \u2013 as if there was just this feeling: \u201cWe\u2019d better withdraw before a problem arises.\u201d I find that quite dangerous. Maybe the phenomenon isn\u2019t so visible or tangible everywhere, but I think similar tendencies can be found in quite many places.<\/p>\nReinis:<\/strong>\u00a0I just want to add something. When local artists create something for a festival, it\u2019s\u00a0unique<\/em>. It might only be performed three or four times. And the community interested in theatre or culture \u2013 however small it is in Riga \u2013 will say, \u201cOh, it\u2019s a unique event, they\u2019ll only play it a few times, we have to see it.\u201d But with the international programme, it\u2019s different. Some of those shows, we\u2019ve already seen. For example,\u00a0Fun Fact<\/em>\u00a0\u2013 I saw it a year ago at a showcase in Tallinn. Those of us who are really into theatre can travel and see those performances in their original context. So it\u2019s not only about the names \u2013 it\u2019s also about the\u00a0experience<\/em>\u00a0of seeing international theatre\u00a0abroad<\/em>.<\/p>\nGundega:<\/strong>\u00a0I think this brings us to something we haven\u2019t really touched upon yet. When we look at all these things separately, we also have to ask:\u00a0what else<\/em>\u00a0is a festival? For me, that\u2019s the most interesting question. What kind of animal is it? What else can it do without putting together a good program? What\u2019s its dramaturgy? What kind of conversation does it create? How do we work with space? I think that\u2019s another layer that\u2019s just as important as the artistic choices \u2013 which artist, which performance. And I feel that in Latvia, this conversation is only just beginning. We\u2019ve never really talked about what a festival\u00a0is<\/em>, what it\u00a0could<\/em>\u00a0be, what its\u00a0potential<\/em>\u00a0is. Are we using it? Are we creating it? It\u2019s such an interesting question.<\/p>\nMarta:<\/strong>\u00a0There\u2019s something I\u2019d like to jump in on here \u2013 also building on what has already been said today \u2013 about how we think about a festival. I think you mentioned this too, Gundega, and it was partly in your question, Santa: how can we think about the festival\u00a0as an institution<\/em>? I guess we can say that a festival\u00a0is<\/em>\u00a0an institution, because of what it does to the field: it establishes artistic hierarchies, sets up a context for artistic practices, offer conditions for the audiences to gather; it builds, maintains, enriches, or expands social relations. It also takes place within a social context, and therefore also impacts how that context functions. Of course, it also offers visibility to some artists while not offering it to others \u2013 so in that sense, it\u2019s also a process of\u00a0instituting<\/em>\u00a0the field itself.<\/p>\nBut I want to return to a conversation that took place at the Santarcangelo Festival, initiated by Silvia Bottiroli, a curator and dramaturg based in Bologna. It was published in a booklet in 2015, during her final edition of the festival. There was a beautiful, speculative dialogue between her and four other curators, where they proposed imagining festivals as\u00a0thinking entities<\/em>. If making art is a form of thinking, then curating a festival can also be seen as a form of thinking. In that sense, festivals can have their own way of thinking \u2013 they can propose their own forms of imagination. And maybe, as an audience member or as a curator, one can also try to\u00a0think with<\/em>\u00a0them.<\/p>\nDrawing inspiration from that, and looking at where we are now \u2013 especially with festivals that are turning 30, for example \u2013 I wonder: what if we think of festivals not only as thinking entities, but also as\u00a0bodies<\/em>? Bodies that live within a specific ecosystem, that are situated in it, and that form relationships with many human and non-human partners.<\/p>\nGundega:<\/strong>\u00a0The privilege of not having fixed roles\u2026<\/p>\nMarta:<\/strong>\u00a0Exactly \u2013 and yet, they might also have those. The festival, as both an institution and a body, could have a kind of\u00a0skin<\/em>\u00a0\u2013 maybe not the fa\u00e7ade of a building, but a more\u00a0porous<\/em>\u00a0skin. How does that skin breathe, for example?<\/p>\nOr, thinking about the body again \u2013 it needs nourishment, it needs nutrients from somewhere. Where does it get them? And what happens if that body \u2013 being 30, or 10, or even just 2 years old \u2013 gets tired? What can we do then? Is the festival only there to take care of and hold space for artists and audiences? Or can it also be\u00a0held<\/em>\u00a0in return? That would be my question \u2013 can we somehow create conditions where the festival itself is also cared for?<\/p>\nSanta:<\/strong>\u00a0But sometimes festival has started as someone\u2019s or some group\u2019s personal, precious initiative \u2013 after 30 years, it\u2019s no longer theirs, and we don\u2019t even really know how it began. We\u2019ve been part of it at different moments, part of a meaningful process, but never leading it. Now it has grown into something big \u2013 a system, an organism, this complex, European project-connected monster with a vibe \u2013 and we\u2019re just trying to grasp what it really is and how we can still be part of it while helping it continue.<\/p>\nMarta:<\/strong>\u00a0But now it\u2019s maybe your precious thing?<\/p>\nReinis:<\/strong>\u00a0I have a reflection here. We just celebrated 10 years, and I\u2019ve been the program director for all of them. We started super small, and now, for the first time, we even closed the main street for a weekend. It was a huge thing \u2013 and a bit of a headache \u2013 because there was a concert by a popular Latvian band at the same time. The street was closed, traffic was crazy, but people loved it. The audience enjoyed it, and the theatre artists enjoyed it too.<\/p>\nBut I keep asking myself: okay, we\u2019ve been doing it this way for 10 years \u2013 what happens next? How can we do it differently? It took me all these years to really feel that the festival has become\u00a0something<\/em>, that it has its own identity.<\/p>\nRight now, we focus on two main things: giving space to young artists, and to those who can\u2019t find a place in institutional theatres. Just three years ago, there were almost no young stage directors on the main stages \u2013 the youngest (Elm\u0101rs Se\u0146kovs) in the repertory theatre was in his early 40s. So, for us, it\u2019s important to offer that opportunity. But at the same time, we don\u2019t want to be seen only as a \u201cbeginners festival\u201d.<\/p>\n
We\u2019ve built an identity and an atmosphere \u2013 when you go to the Valmiera Summer Theatre Festival, you know what kind of experience you\u2019ll have. And if you\u2019re an artist working there, you know you\u2019ll be working with space, with the city, with its people, with the landscape \u2013 that\u2019s the kind of theatre we make. Of course, the budget is small \u2013 like for everyone in culture. But I actually like that we can spend our few thousand euros directly on artists. They make the most of what they have. For example, we had a \u201ctractor opera\u201d: real tractors came in, they dug a hole, that was the stage, the artists performed, they filled it back in, and it was over. The tractors went back to the construction company \u2013 and that was it. But everyone got the emotion, the creative spirit.<\/p>\n
Of course, sometimes you need bigger productions, because you also want a larger audience. Right now, we\u2019re holding the festival one or two weeks after the city festival. The city festival has everything for free \u2013 big pop bands and everything. And people easily spend their 23 euros for a portion of shashlik, potatoes, beer. Our tickets cost around 16 euros, or 8 for professionals, with discounts and social promotions. But it\u2019s never like 23 euros, and it\u2019s about spending that money on\u00a0art<\/em>\u00a0and on your\u00a0emotional experience<\/em>.<\/p>\nSanta:<\/strong>\u00a0I realized it\u2019s actually a burden when critics start writing good things about you. When you still have to convince people, that struggle gives you energy. But once they start flattering you, you begin to wonder \u2013 are we doing something wrong?<\/p>\nReinis:<\/strong>\u00a0A quick response \u2013 at first, our idea was to hold the festival once every two years. We did the first edition, but had to cancel one show, another turned out a bit shaky, and so on. In the end, we had six events planned, but only four actually happened \u2013 and maybe two were more or less okay. As a curator, I ended up not only in financial trouble but also with some distrust from the community. Everyone was asking,\u00a0what is this Valmiera Theatre Festival?<\/em>\u00a0The critics and even the city council said,\u00a0it<\/em>\u2019<\/em>s a bit shady.\u00a0<\/em>So, in two nights we came up with a new concept \u2013 to do a children\u2019s theatre festival the next year. Something smaller-scale, with seats for about 100 people, no need for loudspeakers, just focused work. And we did it very quickly.<\/p>\nGundega:<\/strong>\u00a0But that\u2019s exactly how festivals emerge. What you did was identify a real need \u2013 something that only a festival could respond to. There\u2019s no cultural policy that cares about future audiences, only about star directors. You filled that empty space. And because of that, you also began discovering more gaps \u2013 like the lack of education \u2013 and then you created the Institute. So, good luck, and see you in 30 years!<\/p>\nSanta:<\/strong>\u00a0To wrap up \u2013 thinking of\u00a0Homo Novus<\/em>\u00a0or your own festivals, have you seen them bring real change? Something that clearly shifted from before to after?<\/p>\nPriit:<\/strong>\u00a0We\u2019re not that important \u2013 we\u2019re not changing the world.<\/p>\nMarta:<\/strong>\u00a0But I think quite a lot of other festivals and organizations are looking at you. That might be where the change begins.<\/p>\nPriit:<\/strong>\u00a0Maybe. We\u2019re more like \u2013\u00a0let<\/em>\u2019<\/em>s see how it goes<\/em>. This was our second time curating it collectively. The festival always includes theoretical discussions about collective curating \u2013 we\u2019re learning as we go, far from teaching anyone how it should be done. But we\u2019ve decided to continue this way, at least until next time. It\u2019s been a change for many of us \u2013 including myself. I used to be very skeptical. I come from a generation that believes someone has to be in charge. Maybe the festival hasn\u2019t changed that much, but\u00a0I<\/em>\u00a0have, and it\u2019s been fascinating to observe. There\u2019s no ready-made knowledge about how to do this \u2013 we have to figure it out ourselves.<\/p>\nMarta:<\/strong>\u00a0And could you say, what has changed in you \u2013 in how you think about your role?<\/p>\nPriit:<\/strong>\u00a0We started that process already at\u00a0Kanuti Gildi SAAL<\/em>. I stepped down as artistic director, and three of my colleagues took over. That was already a step toward collectivity. And I think the three of them have bigger challenges than we do with ten people. With three, you still ask,\u00a0who<\/em>\u2019<\/em>s in charge?<\/em>\u00a0But with ten, that question almost disappears.<\/p>\nGundega:<\/strong>\u00a0I think\u00a0Homo Novus<\/em>, through the years, has shown the courage to create differently, to experience differently, to be together differently. It doesn\u2019t necessarily mean we\u2019ve set a new status quo in the field, but I think we\u2019ve spread a message \u2013\u00a0be more free, less serious, but at the same time be very, very serious about the art you<\/em>\u2019re making.<\/em>\u00a0I don\u2019t know\u2026 Reinis, you\u2019ve worked with us and also without us\u2026<\/p>\nReinis:<\/strong>\u00a0I\u2019d say that for me,\u00a0Homo Novus<\/em>\u00a0really changed how I think \u2013 not only as an artist but also how I organize a festival. I did a piece with my three colleagues at\u00a0Homo Alibi<\/em>, and as Gundega said, it started like this: \u201cListen, guys, we have 5,000 euros \u2013 very little money \u2013 here\u2019s an empty space, and in a month and a half, there has to be a performance.\u201d So we built everything ourselves \u2013 the exhibition, the installation, the stage, the seating, the sound, the lights. We created it all with our own hands. And I really loved that experience. That\u2019s also how we work in Valmiera: we have a small budget, open-minded artists, and no technical team or directors \u2013 all the work is done by the team. It gives a huge sense of responsibility to the artists.<\/p>\nGundega:<\/strong>\u00a0I\u2019ll just add \u2013 it\u2019s not always like \u201chere\u2019s the money, see you in a month.\u201d Your case was special \u2013 your quartet (Reinis Suhanovs, J\u0113kabs N\u012bmanis, J\u0101nis Znoti\u0146\u0161, R\u016bdolfs Beki\u010ds) wanted to build the\u00a0ideal stage<\/em>. There was no place for me as a dramaturg or curator \u2013 they wanted to build their own world with their own hands.<\/p>\nReinis:<\/strong>\u00a0Exactly, and that\u2019s why it was such an important experience for me. I wanted to create that kind of space for other artists too. It\u2019s not always pleasant, especially when you work in state theatres, where there are stage workers, managers, and artistic directors telling you what to change. I wanted to make a space where artists can take full responsibility and freedom.<\/p>\n
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