A new dimension to the city of wannabes?

Estonian Institute
Karin Paulus
Kalamaja The way Estonians, and especially Tallinners, relate to the surrounding environment is quite symbolic. The gestures made in the consumption of goods often lack any personal dimension. What prevails in the built environment, in architecture, is an image - that something is clearly visible - and not a home as a nest. Although private houses are pretty and cars expensive, their possession does not necessarily have strong connections with real income. All that splendour is frequently acquired on credit, ie by means of bank loans. Luckily, more and more creative solutions are appearing to compete with theatrical architecture. People are focusing more on milieu and small joys offered by playing fields, green gardens, slanting pathways and caring attitudes. Is this the first sign that priorities are changing here?
For five or six years property developers have been talking about Kalamaja, besides the elitist Kadriorg and Nõmme areas, as a new coveted area in Tallinn. However, the first outstanding houses were completed in Kalamaja only in 2005. In a sense, Kalamaja inhabitants reflect the contrasts in the country - besides the drunks and drug addicts most numerous around the Baltic railway station, and simply poor people, Kalamaja is increasingly inhabited by wealthier milieu-freaks, who sincerely care about the singular proletarian architecture.
As the name suggests (Kalamaja - fish house), this is a former stopover place for fishermen, where tenement houses for workers were built during the rapid urbanisation of the 19th century.



Kopli In order to preserve its unique milieu, the town has set strict rules for building new houses. This is quite understandable, as the homogeneous and well-preserved area mostly consists of workers' houses of the tsarist period and some functionalist pretty buildings. It is thus not surprising that the new edifices do not rise on 'empty' plots of land, ie green areas, but instead on the sites of burnt houses or those destroyed during the Second World War.
The grandest project so far is the complex called Art Depot, where the former factory production department was converted into flats and offices. "As this is a fascinating region, and a singular industrial building to which various additions were made during many years, we faced an exciting task of creating a habitable modern environment in the midst of this 'chaos', while maintaining the existing, industrial milieu," says the young architect Harry Klaar of the architectural office On Arhitektid. The choice of name also indicates a wish to blend art and industrial background. The fact that there is a decent gallery in Art Depot (see also p 43) and the studio-flats are inhabited by several artists shows that development projects clearly favouring the creative industry do have a niche of their own. Obviously, Estonians are no longer content merely with living in a new house - a desire left over in many people from the Soviet era shortage of flats - preferring a place with a history, its own narrative.
Another good example of the 'brave new Estonian architecture' is in Vabriku Street, where a new building was planted on the foundation of an early-20th century workers' house, which had burnt down several times.



Vabriku Street 33 Raivo Kotov and Tõnis Kimmel, from a trendy architectural office KOKO, introduce the project as follows: "The idea sprang from the environment itself. Our main aim is to create a building that would maintain the typical Kalamaja values and at the same time would add something new - the tang of today's world." The building reveals deep respect for the milieu, to which the architects have tried to add something, instead of merely exploiting the Kalamaja identity like ticks. The house has dark red vertical boarding, and a roof height and width of windows that harmonise with adjoining buildings. The most modern floor is the third, which naturally has no attic, but does have flats, in line with the prevailing fashion. A surprise awaits the curious in the courtyard - the two upper floors have large balconies. They are designed with consideration, but they are certainly modern and not in the least kitschy.
Liina Jänes, chief specialist of milieu areas at the Tallinn Cultural Heritage Department, says that when they have recently needed to point out to developers that new architecture can be respectful of the milieu, and not an alien body, they have mentioned Vabriku 33 as a positive example. "Some are already learning," she adds with contentment.
Kopli, too, is slowly on the mend. Its development has been significantly influenced by various huge enterprises operating in the area, such as the Russian-Baltic Shipyard, the Baltic Cotton Spinning and Weaving Factory, the Bekker Shipyard, the Miinisadam (Mine Port) and the 'Arsenal' military factory.



Kopli As in Tallinn, the share of industry in Kopli is gradually diminishing. Industrial buildings can always be reconstructed, demolished etc, whereas the much bigger problem, from the point of view of the urban environment, is connected with the harbours in Kopli, with various trains and tanker lorries carrying dangerous cargo regularly between them. Although this is a peninsula, the current transport system does not permit the directing of heavy transport so that it would avoid the city centre. It is in fact quite depressing that the construction boom in North Tallinn is not restricted even by the real danger of an environmental catastrophe caused by a traffic accident with a cargo of ammonia, petrol or ammonium nitrate. It is difficult to say why the situation is as it is. Is it due to the politicians who, as board members of huge enterprises, are worried about a reduction in profit? Or can we blame the property developers, who are very keen to fill the newly acquired land with as many buildings as possible? Or perhaps the blame lies with town-dwellers themselves, who do not really care what goes on around them and do not fight for their rights?
The other problem with Kopli is its negative reputation. Because of the dominant Russian-language population, this is considered a highcrime area. Statistics, however, show something else - the biggest number of crimes is committed in the Old Town. If you walk around in Kopli, free of prejudices, you have to admit that this is one of the most picturesque areas in Tallinn, where the main problem is that many apartment houses and industrial buildings have still not been privatised.
In a sense, this kind of indecisiveness, or maybe befuddlement, is typical of all Estonian coastal areas. The territories previously belonging to the Soviet occupation army - the border zones - are now vacant. But what should or ought to be done with them next is anybody's guess.



Paljassaar During the past decade, various people - students, professional architects and the city fathers - have tried to present their visions. At least at the moment it is planned to use the winning work of the international architectural contest Europan 5 (1998) in one quarter - the so-called Kopli lines. The young Finnish architects Olli Sarlin, Marja Sopanen, Tuomas Hakala and Katariina Vuorio wished to maintain some model houses and replace the old buildings with new ones gradually, thus harmonising the new buildings with the current construction rhythm in the designed area.
The plans for Paljassaar peninsula in Kopli are grander. A large part of the peninsula is overgrown and therefore open to all sorts of alternative activities. Some go there for bird-watching (a small part of the territory is currently under nature protection), some to enjoy a motorcycle rally, but others for swimming and sun-bathing at Katariina quay (as described by writer Kerttu Rakke and architecture historian Mart Kalm). Paljassaar, true enough, is open to the sea, but nevertheless it is quite windless. It offers a magnificent view of the Old Town of Tallinn. And of course stunning sunsets...
The future, however, seems more prosaic. As the lucrative, but empty, area is located so close to the city centre, plans have emerged to start building residential houses here, and the goods port will probably be replaced by a cruise port. Hopefully, at least part of the green belt will be retained as recreation area.
We can now simply hope, idealistically, that Kalamaja and Kopli will have another fate, that of a new Estonia, where the essential consideration is not the rising stock exchange index, but the possibility that people are loved and cared for.

Karin Paulus
(1975), art historian and critic, editor of the weekly
Eesti Ekspress.



| Estonian Art 2/05 (17) | Published by the Estonian Institute 2005 | ISSN 1406-5711 (Online) | ISSN 1406-3549 (Printed version) | einst@einst.ee | tel: (372) 631 43 55 | fax: (372) 631 43 56 |