That's yet to happen. But I did find myself at a choir rehearsal the other week, trying to be the alto that I am but mostly singing along with the sopranos by accident. Fortunately, the singers were very welcoming, tolerant and understanding. That seems to characterize this bunch very well.
The choir in question is the Latvian Choir for Expats, also known as the “Strawberry choir” for their logo, and the “fun choir” for their demeanor [the word 'Expats' is an abbreviation of "expatriates" – in other words immigrants, whether long-term or short-term – Ed.]. This particular rehearsal gathered singers from Japan, Canada, Sri Lanka, Georgia, France, Germany, the USA, the UK, and Russia, with local mezzo-soprano Tīna Gelnere at the helm.
Tīna, a graduate of the Riga Cathedral Choir School, also has a bachelor's degree in singing and a master's degree in opera singing. She founded the choir in 2022, having returned to Latvia after 10 years of living in the UK, where, among other things, she ended up conducting a 90-strong choir. This was her first exposure to a choir that didn't have a strict auditioning policy, was more about singing as a way of socializing and having fun, and performed popular music. Moving back to Latvia, she wanted to take that idea with her. She also returned with the knowledge and experience of how challenging it is to be a “foreigner”, and the importance of establishing a social network in a new place.
During the Covid pandemic Tīna had also begun teaching online Latvian classes, so the choir was born from combining her skills in music and pedagogy, and other interests.
The choir gets together once a week for a repertoire of popular Latvian music, which Tīna selects based on what she feels that locals would sing along to. “I feel like the Song and Dance Festival is a hugely significant occasion but it only takes place once every five years. It would be rare to sing choral music when we get together in a family setting, singing around the fire or something like that. It would much more likely be pop music,” she says, outlining how music can also help people integrate better.
“I choose songs that aren't to my taste too. “Trīs lietas” (Three things), for example. I don't love it but every Latvian knows it. You can't escape it. But my singers like to choose the songs they'll sing, and they loved this one, so I got to sing it for a year or so. I have to be careful with what I select,” Tīna continues.
“The singers joke that Rimi [a supermarket chain] should become our sponsor because they're always playing our songs. On our Whatsapp chat people write things like “I'm at the supermarket, and they're playing “Dzeguzes balss” (Cuckoo's Call)”,” Tīna mentions.
Sometimes, the singers might learn to love a song that Latvians themselves have grown tired of.
“We don't listen to the original, so if the words and melody are nice and we can present it in an interesting way, then the song can become precious again. They don't have any stereotypes about the songs,” she goes on.
Tīna's idea is working. The singers speak of how they tell their friends about the choir and share the songs, and everyone recognizes them and wants to sing along.
Knowing the Latvian language is not a prerequisite for joining the choir. When learning a new song, the group starts by reading and translating the lyrics. Everyone reads, including the new arrivals who aren't yet familiar with the phonetics.
Tīna mentions an American singer who was only in Latvia for a short time but now has a good story to tell thanks to the choir: “At a cafe, she was asked whether she wanted her bagel “pliku” (naked). Since we'd sung the song “Man vienalga viss” (I don't give a damn about anything), which mentions the beauty of naked people, she recognized the word and was able to answer.”
Curious cultural differences
As I experienced, the rehearsals are very relaxed and informal. Tīna plays the piano but doesn't actively conduct. Occasionally, she'll stop and correct some of the notes or pronunciation. Things get more serious before concerts. “Still, it's mostly for us to have fun, not to prove anything to the listeners,” says Tīna, adding “it's also a personal thing for me as a performer. To me, the most important thing is not ambitions or achievements but bringing joy to people.”
Once, Tīna did experience a cultural difference that she aims to address in future. “We had a concert, and the walk to the stage was quite long. As a Latvian, it's in my blood to hold your folder at your side and march one behind the other. The singers hadn't been taught that as kids. Being familiar with choir culture isn't a given!” she learnt.
Considering the often transient nature of 'expat' lifestyles, Tīna also has to accept that people come and go, joining the choir for shorter or longer periods of time. “At this stage, I'd love for people to get involved and stay involved. But, from the start, I was aware that expats have very different lifestyles and often go home, and that we're all adults and anything can happen. I'm not the kind of conductor who'll tell you off for skipping rehearsals or disappearing for a while. We also get students joining who have exam seasons and go home in summer. I try to adapt,” she speaks of the reality of working with an international group of people. “I got an email from a Japanese traveler spending some time in Latvia and wanting to join the choir. I said yes,” she adds.
Another of Tīna's challenges was that locals wanted to start joining the choir but she remained strict, drew a line, and founded another choir instead – the Latvian Lemon Choir, which gathers both locals and foreigners to sing international songs. For that choir, she does organize informal auditions. The Latvian Lemon Choir and Latvian Choir for Expats have already performed together. Tīna believes that combining the choirs may be the best way to participate in the Song and Dance Festival in future. During my visit to the choir I heard several singers express their enthusiasm at the idea of performing there.
“We'd likely need more balance between voice types. In theory, we're a mixed choir. We'll have to see closer to the time whether we can qualify and sing the required repertoire because what we're doing right now is very different,” Tīna says.
The choir is open to exploring how they could team up or be friends with other local choirs too, even though their approach and repertoire are novel in comparison. According to Tīna, when she meets other conductors and tells them about her concept, they appreciate it and would like to collaborate. “In Latvia, there's a tendency for the period after the Song and Dance Festival to be slow for choir conductors, and so they seek ways to keep their singers motivated,” she says of how it gives them ideas.
For Tīna, running the choir means all her Thursday evenings are now booked up. Obviously, it's worth it. “On a personal level, I'd like to say I've acquired a new family. After ten years abroad, my own social network wasn't that strong anymore,” she opens up, speaking of how the singers also get together outside of their rehearsals to go to concerts and dance evenings, and have other adventures.
“We've had picnics where someone brings a guitar and we start singing. Beautiful moments that local Latvians would also love to experience but take for granted and so don't put any effort into,” she says of the community spirit.
“Many of the singers have Latvian partners. Before joining the choir, their friends were their partners' friends but now they have their own circle, too. If someone has a birthday party, for example, many of the guests will be the singers and their partners,” Tīna continues.
One thing that Tīna has observed from leading two choirs is that when the rehearsal ends, the locals go straight home but the others stay for an extra 20 or 30 minutes to have a chat. “20 minutes after a rehearsal can be life changing!” she says, encouraging locals to be more open because you never know what that brief exchange could lead to.
Singers gain community, Latvian language skills and cultural insights
Having sung “Viņi dejoja vienu vasaru” (They danced one summer long), “Piedošana” (Forgiveness), “Mersedess” (Mercedes) and other classics from throughout the ages, I stayed for the extra 20 minutes after the rehearsal to chat to some of the singers.
Victor is from France and has been living in Latvia for two years. He joined the choir in December 2023 after a friend recommended it. “I was living in Brussels before, which is very international, so I was missing that. Here you can meet people from around the world. The choir is really a community,” he says, adding that it can be difficult to meet people when you first arrive as a foreigner.
While Victor is trying to learn Latvian, he finds that people speak such good English that he hardly needs the language to get by. “To sing in Latvian is a bit of an added challenge but you get used to it. Tina corrects our pronunciation,” he says of the choir. He also appreciates that you can get insight into Latvian culture through some of the songs.
Tharushi is from Sri Lanka, came to Latvia to do her bachelor's, is now doing a master's and married to a Latvian. For her, the choir is important from both a social and language learning perspective. Learning Latvian through singing is an enjoyable alternative to sitting and studying from books, and the fact that everyone has a passion for singing in common makes it easier to break the ice.
In a few years' time, Tharushi would love to sing at the Song and Dance Festival. “I can't think of a better way to make my mother-in-law proud!” she laughs, noting that the language barrier has made it difficult to communicate with her until now.
Also at the rehearsal is Laura, a Latvian from the diaspora in Canada. In true Riga fashion, she overheard me interviewing Tīna at a coffee shop two days prior, came up to us, and... joined the choir!
