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Estonia: The sprit of song is alive and well

A visit to Tallinn, a lively — and musical — Baltic capital.

Estonians enjoy a collective culture, which includes sharing

Estonians enjoy a collective culture, which includes sharing food and drink. Photo Credit: Rick Steves’ Europe / Rick Steves

On my last visit to Tallinn, while I was admiring the view from the terrace atop the city walls, a kindly middle-age man approached. From a satchel he pulled out a stack of CDs, all recordings of Tallinn’s famous Song Festivals. Eager to make a sale, he was even more intent that I learn the story of how singing helped lead his country to independence.

In 2018, the scrappy Republic of Estonia marks the 100th anniversary of its founding. Having endured 200 years of czarist rule, the unraveling of the Russian Empire and the turmoil of World War I, the Estonian people faced an uphill battle when they declared their republic in 1918. They quickly adopted a democratic government and set about building a robust economy.

The good times didn’t last — in 1940 the Soviets marched in, and Germany invaded in 1941. By the end of World War II, Estonia found itself annexed again to its neighbor, now the Soviet Union.

Estonians saw their culture swept away, with Russian replacing Estonian as the language in schools. Russians and Ukrainians were moved in, and Estonians were shipped out. Moscow wouldn’t even allow locals to wave their own flag.

But Estonians were determined to maintain their cultural identity. They had no weapons, but they created their own power — remarkably — by banding together and singing.


Song has long been a cherished Estonian form of expression. As long ago as 1869 (during another era of Russian subjugation), Estonians gathered in massive choirs to sing and to celebrate their cultural uniqueness. Later, during the Soviet era, a brave choir master, Gustav Ernesaks, had the nerve in 1947 to lead singers in Estonia’s unofficial national anthem.

In 1988, Estonians gathered — 300,000 strong, a third of the population — at the Song Festival Grounds outside Tallinn. Locals vividly recall coming out to sing patriotic songs while dressed in folk costumes sewn years before by their grandmothers. The next year, the people of Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia held hands to make the “Baltic Chain,” a human bond that stretched 400 miles from Vilnius, Lithuania, to Riga, Latvia, to Tallinn. Some feared a Tiananmen Square-type bloodbath, but the Estonians just kept singing.

This so-called Singing Revolution, peaceful and nonviolent, persisted for five years, and in the end, Estonians gained their freedom.


The spirit of song continues in Estonia. Every five years, the Song Festival Grounds welcome 25,000 singers and 100,000 spectators (the current amphitheater, built in 1959, resembles an oversized Hollywood Bowl). I’ve visited Tallinn several times, and the thrill of this phenomenon — and its historic importance — still inspires me.

I’d guess that today’s Tallinn has more restaurants, cafes and surprises per capita and square inch than any Baltic city I’ve visited. Cruise ships have discovered Tallinn, and sightseers mob its cobbles most days.

Despite the crowds, I am always charmed by Tallinn’s Old Town, the best-preserved medieval center in all of Nordic Europe. And I make a point to get beyond the tacky tourism of the city’s central square. In ancient town houses and guild halls around town, I’ve discovered several humble but worthwhile museums that put Estonia’s storied past in context.


Tallinn was a stronghold of the Baltic-Hanseatic maritime world, and the Tallinn City Museum provides a fascinating introduction to the glory days of merchant traders. The sober Museum of Occupations, recounting Estonian life under Soviet and German rule, is a reminder of the struggles faced by small countries in the shadow of empires.

The compact Museum of Estonian History condenses 11,000 years of Estonian cultural history with relative ease, focusing on the events and traditions that have shaped the country’s psyche. The Estonian Open-Air Museum, just outside town, displays salvaged farm buildings, windmills and an old church, all transported from rural areas to a parklike setting to both save and share Estonia’s traditions.

Visiting this tiny country, you can’t help but feel the connection of its people to their land and heritage — and the vibrancy of a free nation that’s just a generation old. Estonian pride is in the air.

IF YOU GO . . .

SLEEPING My City Hotel fills a handsome 1950s building on the south edge of the Old Town with 68 nicely appointed rooms (splurge, Hotel Bern, just outside the Old Town, is a friendly place with 50 basic rooms (moderate,

EATING Mekk, meaning “modern Estonian cuisine,” is small, fresh and upscale (Suur-Karja 17). Vanaema Juures (“Grandma’s Place”), an eight-table cellar restaurant, serves traditional Estonian meals (Rataskaevu 10).

GETTING AROUND Explore the Old Town on foot, but use public transit to reach outlying sights. Note that Tallinn’s buses, trams and trolley buses reuse the same numbers for completely different lines.


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