Theatre in reestablished independent Estonia
All through the 1970s and 1980s social, national, and ecological problems were growing increasingly acute, until they finally erupted in the context of the Gorbachev perestroika (“restructuring”) around 1987. Four years of arduous struggle followed, with the result often in balance. In 1991, the Soviet empire finally collapsed, and Estonia was again free and independent. The arts actively participated in the struggle, many artists going full-time into politics. Censorship was abolished; subjects, authors, and plays previously banned now reached the stage. However, once the novelty of speaking out had passed, the rush of political events left the arts somewhat in the shadows. Theatre as a public art, in particular, had to reconsider its role: for years a channel for expressing, however allusively, opposition to Soviet rule, it now had to find a new function. This became even more urgent, once independence had been gained and a period of economic transition from a centralized system to capitalist market forces set in. Under the circumstances of rapid inflation ticket prices rose considerably and soon became inaccessible for a large section of former theatregoers. For a couple of seasons in the early 1990s the panic reaction of the theatres was to bring out as many lightweight comedies as possible. Most of the theatres also had to cut their troupes and increase the overall number of productions.
Fortunately the time of acute crisis did not last long. That applies to both the economy and the state of the arts. In the economy, Estonia has been generally cited as one of the success stories of Eastern Europe, and the arts also rapidly re-orientated their courses. In theatre the main achievement probably is that the system of a dozen professional repertory companies, pretty well embracing the whole country, has been kept intact. This has been possible only due to direct state subvention, which largely covers their regular running costs; any Soviet-style intervention in a theatre’s artistic decisions has of course been precluded. More specialized needs and individual projects have been financed by various sponsors and foundations. The most important among the latter is the Estonian Cultural Endowment (Eesti Kultuurkapital), founded (or re-established, as there had been a similar institution during the previous independence period) in 1994.
So the Estonian theatre seems to have settled again for a period of relative stabilization. The situation is somewhat paradoxical. On the one hand, the whole life-style has undergone radical changes. Foreign tourism and studies abroad are now very much part of the younger generation’s experience. More guest productions have been brought to Estonia, and Estonian theatres have successfully participated at various festivals. There is a lively exchange of ideas and influences, and most international trends are represented in Estonian arts in one way or another. On the other hand, it is difficult to identify any deep-going changes in the overall theatre landscape. Certainly there has been no great stylistic change comparable to the one in 1969. Probably because there is no dominant international trend at the moment. Instead there is a “postmodernist” plurality of minor shifts and re-interpretations. Still, one thing is certain: rather than trying directly to reflect or confront the society, directors and actors have half-consciously, it seems, chosen to treat the theatre as an oasis for pursuing more abstract spiritual, psychological, and artistic quests. If these are in some way obliquely related to social processes, that relationship is still vague. At present people simply go to plays that are described as “good theatre”. The productions of Merle Karusoo, based on sociological studies and sometimes journalistic in their rhetoric, are conspicuous because of their exceptional character.
In the repertoire the big change of brushing away Soviet ideological restrictions and quotas already happened some fifteen years ago.
Since then the only clear feature is the predominance of Anglo-American drama. Otherwise all observable tendencies have been short-lived and open to different interpretations. There was, for example, a spate of plays on romantic subjects and characters (Don Quixote, Edmund Kean, the three musketeers, to name a few) in the middle 1990s. One could see it as a protest against rampant materialism; but one could equally see it as a celebration of the adventurous spirit of early capitalism. Curiously, that tendency ran parallel to quite another trend – an interest in absurdist or surrealistic plays; the trend that has been notably absent is raw realism or naturalism. It is also worth mentioning that many of the most acclaimed productions of the 1990s were revivals of the classics. Naturally something of our present concerns always enters into our interpretations of the classics; but this relationship is still different from that with contemporary plays. And on the whole our recent revivals of classics have not specifically stressed their modern connections. Rather, directors have been interested in their more “transcendental”, universal features.
As often in the history of Estonian literature, native playwriting again seems to be a somewhat retarded genre. While in poetry and fiction a forceful change of generations has occurred, in drama it is much less evident. The big name of the 1990s was Madis Kõiv, physicist by profession, philosopher and writer by vocation. But his plays actually derive from a thirty-year period: they had to wait so long because theatre directors had thought their visionary mode “technically” unstageable. Once they finally overcame their doubts, that visionary character proved to be the basis of Kõiv’s high theatricality.
Otherwise leading playwrights of previous decades have largely withdrawn from the field, but no new wave has come to replace them. There are some promising younger writers, like Andrus Kivirähk, Mart Kivastik, and Jaan Tätte, but they are obviously still in an early phase of their career.
A couple of drama competitions, organized by the Estonian Drama Agency, did yield a surprising number of manuscripts, but there were not so many really encouraging texts among them.
Among stage directors, the generation of the 1960s is still very active, though it occasionally shows signs of tiredness. So, Mikk Mikiver has made a remarkable comeback in recent years. And there is the case of Mati Unt, who began as an innovative fiction writer in the 1960s and later also developed into a stage director; it is his productions which, because of their rich allusiveness and sophisticated irony, are usually cited as examples of postmodernist attitudes.
The other central names of the 1990s were the somewhat younger directors Priit Pedajas and Elmo Nüganen. Pedajas first came to notice with productions in a slow, mesmerizing, meditative mood; later he has widened his rhythmic and emotional scale. One of his special services is the vindication of the stageability of Madis Kõiv’s plays.
Nüganen exhibited in his first productions brilliance, lightness of touch, playfulness, and rhythmic variety not too common on Estonian stages; his further development has been towards greater psychological truth.
Among the still younger group of directors, Jaanus Rohumaa, Katri Kaasik-Aaslav, and Hendrik Toompere should be mentioned. Pedajas, Nüganen, and Rohumaa have brought the Estonian theatre most of its awards from recent international festivals. Each of these talented artists naturally has a new world of his or her own; nevertheless, the fact that all of them have entered the theatre without causing particular trouble, and all have quickly found wide-spread cross-generational recognition, is an indication that the renewal they have brought along cannot exactly be described as radical. Such lack of radicalism, especially when compared to the state of some other Estonian arts, is probably the cause behind the irritation of some of the younger critics.
Predominance of Tallinn theatres
A conspicuous feature of the 1990s is the artistic predominance of Tallinn theatres. It has not been always the case in the short 130-year history of native Estonian theatre; so, the “Vanemuine” in the university town Tartu has often played a central role in the past.
At present, however, the leaders clearly are the Estonian Drama Theatre (Eesti Draamateater) and the Tallinn City Theatre (Tallinna Linnateater).
The former has long been considered a showcase institution, with the biggest and best drama troupe of the country; but it has also experienced periods of decline and inner strife. Its response to the audience crisis of the early 1990s was to raise the annual number of productions from around a dozen to nearly twenty; now that number has again stabilized at around fifteen. This policy was only possible because the theatre has recently had a strong group of stage directors, including the present artistic director Priit Pedajas.
The Tallinn City Theatre, formerly called the Youth Theatre (Noorsooteater), seemed to be the hardest-hit by the changes of the early 1990s.
Having to abandon its big auditorium in a Soviet-style “palace of culture”, it was confined to a 100-seat stage in its own medieval building, and had to drastically cut its troupe and limit its annual productions to around six.
But under Elmo Nüganen, the artistic leader since 1992, it started to turn its cramped conditions into ingenious forms of “environmental theatre”.
In March 1999 the physical conditions of the City Theatre substantially improved by its expansion into a renovated neighbouring building which includes two new stages.
Whether this recent upsurge of Tallinn has something to do with its considerably wider spectrum of audience, which gives the theatres more artistic leeway, is an open question. And it naturally does not mean that interesting things do not happen elsewhere. There was, for example, a sudden revival in Rakvere, a small northeastern town of ca 20,000 inhabitants, when its theatre was practically taken over by a group of freshly graduated young actors in 1996.
Recent years developments
The present predominance of Tallinn theatres remains a fact. Tallinn also has the greatest number of small private theatres. This is a new phenomenon of the last fifteen years or so, because earlier such groups were simply outlawed in the rigid Soviet system. Most of them have found their niche in productions for children, but a few, notably the Von Krahl Theatre and the Theatrum, pursue more experimental aims.
The Von Krahl group is also behind the Baltoscandal International Festival of Alternative Theatre, held biennially since 1990. On the more “institutional” side, a biennial festival of Estonian theatres has been held in Tartu since 1996.
In recent years the “established” theatres have also been active in looking for more unusual surroundings for various productions, especially in the form of musicals and open air summer productions.
Thus the Estonian theatre presents a varied and busy landscape.