Teesid: Käesolev sissejuhatus raamistab dekadentsi-teemaliste erinumbrite triloogia kolmandat osa, mis on välja kasvanud uurimisprojektist „Tsiviliseeritud rahvuse teke: dekadents kui üleminek 1905–1940“. Projekt käsitab dekadentsi ühtaegu üleminekuseisundite diskursuse ja esteetikana, mis väljendab moderniseeruva fin de siècle’i ühiskonna lagunemis- ja ebastabiilsuskogemusi, kuid avab ühtlasi võimalusi teisenemiseks ja taassünniks. Projekt toetub viiele lähte-eeldusele, mis rõhutavad dekadentsi seost kiirenenud moderniseerumise, identiteedi ambivalentsuse, naturalismi allakäigudiskursuste ning Nietzsche mõtlemisega. Uurimuse põhifookus on eesti dekadentsil (Noor-Eesti ja selle järeltulijad) dialoogis Soome ja laiemate Skandinaavia ning (Lääne-)Euroopa dekadentsi näidetega. This introduction presents the third part of a three-part special-issue series on artistic—above all literary—decadence, developed within the research project “The Making of a Civilized Nation: Decadence as Transition, 1905–1940.” Taken together, the three issues (the first published in Keel ja Kirjandus 2024, nos. 1–2, and the second in Kunstiteaduslikke Uurimusi 2025, vol. 34, nos. 1–2) map the current state of Estonian decadence studies and position them within Nordic—especially Finnish—and broader European scholarly contexts. Because the earlier introductions were unable to elaborate on the project’s aims or conceptual framework, this essay outlines its theoretical foundations, methodological approach and principal activities. The project understands decadence primarily as a discourse and aesthetic of transitional states. In rapidly modernizing fin-de-siècle societies, decadence registers experiences of decay, decline, fragmentation and instability while simultaneously enabling imaginaries of renewal. The project compares representations of decadence in Nordic and Baltic cultures with those in French, German, English and Russian art and literature. It proceeds from five premises:(1) decadence is tied to accelerated modernization and its spatial, temporal, moral, biological and aesthetic upheavals;(2) responses to such transitions are affectively ambivalent;(3) decadence reflects volatile transformations of identity—national, racial, gendered, sexual and political;(4) decadent aesthetics often merge with naturalist discourses of decline; and(5) Nietzsche’s conception of decadence, along with his reflections on nation and race, provides an essential interpretive framework. Decadence is approached in two interrelated senses: first, as a discursive network of practices that attribute both negative and positive values to decline and fragmentation; and second, as an aesthetic mode that interacts with naturalism, symbolism, impressionism, expressionism, modernism, as well as philosophical and (pseudo)scientific discourses. Given the hybrid nature of decadent aesthetics, the project examines two types of artistic decadence: so-called core decadence and, in a broader sense, examples of artistic decadence (see Lyytikäinen et al. 2020). This broader conception of decadence helps to explain its entanglements with realism, naturalism and modernism. The project’s central case study is Estonian decadence, including the Young Estonia movement and its successors. Key writers, artists and composers—Gustav Suits, Friedebert Tuglas, A. H. Tammsaare, Johannes Aavik, Aino Kallas, Alma Ostra-Oinas, Sophia Vardi, Nikolai Triik, Konrad Mägi, Erik Obermann, Kristjan Raud, Mart Saar, among others—reinterpreted European decadence in dialogue with Finnish decadence (L. Onerva, Eino Leino, Joel Lehtonen, F. E. Sillanpää) while negotiating the tension between a “young” national culture and “overripe” European traditions. A. H. Tammsaare’s work emerges as a major example of Nietzschean-inflected decadent modernism. A crucial theme is the transition from rural, collective identities to urban, individualist ones, as well as the formation of a decadent-national style amid competing German, Russian, French and Nordic (August Strindberg, Knut Hamsun, Herman Bang, Amalie Skram, J. P. Jacobsen etc.) and above all Finnish influences. The project is organized around three interlinked research clusters. The first examines decadence and accelerated modernization, using concepts such as Tuglas’s “deficit of racial spirit” to elucidate stylistic instability and liminality in early urban literature.The second explores changing identities and the emergence of “new women,” analysing how gender norms, feminist agendas, and misogynistic discourse intersect in the works of Estonian decadent-modernist authors. The third cluster, “spiritual naturalism and affective aesthetics,” investigates how decadence mediates affect, emotion, colour symbolism, and composition in works by Tammsaare, Sillanpää plus artists such as Nikolai Triik, Konrad Mägi, Ado Vabbe, Natalie Mei, Erna Brinckmann, Ida Adamson, Oskar Kallis, Eduard Wiiralt and others, drawing on Nietzschean notions of affective struggle and the will to power. Over four years, the project has expanded substantially: it has produced several PhD dissertations; organized academic courses and seminars on decadence; published translations (including Nietzsche and key decadent texts); and arranged summer schools, public events and international conferences. It has also stimulated new research into the post-war afterlives of decadence in Estonian literature and art. The recent conference “Peripheral Decadences and Forms of Nationalism” (November 2025) demonstrated the project’s broader contribution: integrating the small Baltic and Nordic cultures into global decadence studies and showing how decadent aesthetics could reshape national identities rather than merely threaten them. Ultimately, the project argues that peripheral cultures were not passive recipients of metropolitan models. Rather, they reinterpreted and transformed European decadence in original ways, creating distinctive artistic idioms that challenge centre–periphery narratives and open new avenues for comparative research.

Teesid: Artikkel käsitleb Teise maailmasõja ajal Rootsi ümber asunud, kontsertpianistina märkimisväärset rahvusvahelist kuulsust saavutanud ja ka kirjanikuna tuntud Käbi Laretei teost „Peotäis mulda, lapike maad“ (1976, e k 1989), keskendudes kirjutamise rollile loomehalvatuse ületamisel, mis tabas Lareteid pärast vanemate surma. Uurimus toob esile, et klaveri ja muusika tihe seotus lapsepõlve, vanemate ning kaotatud kodumaaga, mida end pigem kosmopoliidina määratlev Laretei enne ei tajunud, viis hetkeni, mil „muusika vaikis“ – loomingulise halvatuse vallandumiseni. Kirjutamisest sai Laretei jaoks terapeutilise mälutöö vahend, mis lõi talle juurdepääsu minevikule, võimaldas mõista loomingulise halvatuse põhjuseid ja seda ületada. This article explores the therapeutic and identity-reconstructive function of autobiographical writing in Käbi Laretei’s memoir Peotäis mulda, lapike maad (A Handful of Soil, a Patch of Land). It examines how Laretei – an internationally acclaimed Estonian Swedish concert pianist and prolific autobiographical writer whose works chronicle her musical career, family life, and later return visits to Estonia – employed literary expression to process unresolved grief, confront artistic paralysis, and reconstruct a fragmented sense of self in the aftermath of her parents’ deaths. Born in 1922, Laretei was the daughter of the Estonian diplomat Heinrich Laretei; she spent most of her adult life in exile in Sweden after fleeing Estonia during World War II. While she maintained a cosmopolitan identity throughout her musical career, it was only later in life – particularly in the wake of her father’s death in 1973 – that the complex entanglements of music, homeland, and familial memory began to surface with renewed emotional intensity. The article contends that her creative paralysis, an experience she described as the moment when „music fell silent“, was rooted in unresolved grief and a fragmented sense of identity, both shaped by the dislocations of exile and the psychological demands of her artistic vocation. Factors such as linguistic displacement, cultural estrangement, and the burden of high-level performance shaped both her public persona and private self-understanding. Laretei’s decision to write in Swedish, the language of her exile, reflected not only the realities of her publishing context, most notably, her collaboration with the Bonnier publishing house, but also the ambivalent position of the diasporic subject suspended between assimilation and cultural continuity. Her language choice thus mirrors the broader tensions of identity negotiation in exile. The article situates Laretei’s memoir within the broader genre of music memoirs, arguing that although autobiographical texts by classical musicians remain underexamined compared to those of popular musicians, they merit equal scholarly attention. Laretei’s narrative is profoundly informed by musical sensibility, not only in terms of content, but also form. Her prose is marked by tonal variation, temporal shifts, and improvisational fluidity, evoking the experiential logic of musical performance. Memory, in her writing, is often triggered by or organised around musical motifs, with past experiences recalled in terms of sound, repetition and rhythm. Through close textual analysis, the article demonstrates how Peotäis mulda, lapike maad operates as a form of autobiographical witnessing and affective processing. The memoir, written in a rhythmically fragmented style, allows Laretei to articulate grief, trace the origins of her emotional paralysis, and re-establish continuity with her past. Writing becomes a parallel form of expression to music, one that enables her to engage with affective material that she could no longer access or communicate through practice and performance during her creative paralysis. In this sense, the act of writing substitutes for the musical voice that had temporarily fallen silent. The rupture Laretei experienced after her father’s death serves as the memoir’s emotional and structural core. Deprived of her familial anchor and burdened by cumulative grief, she experienced a deep crisis of identity and artistic purpose. In response, she withdrew to Hammamet, Morocco, where she began writing what would become Peotäis mulda, lapike maad. The authors interpret this act as a deliberate retreat into introspection and self-healing. The writing process enabled Laretei to reconstruct meaning from loss by weaving together memories of her childhood, her formative musical education, and symbolic encounters with the landscapes of her homeland. Significantly, the memoir also engages with the intergenerational transmission of trauma. Laretei reflects on her son’s psychosomatic illness and interprets it as a bodily manifestation of the psychic wounds inherited from her own unresolved traumas of exile and loss. This recognition allows her to begin re-integrating a previously fragmented self and to acknowledge the broader legacy of displacement on familial and artistic life. The memoir culminates in a moment of emotional release, where Laretei describes a return to breath and an emergent desire to play music once more. This symbolic ‘return’ marks the end of her paralysis and the reactivation of creative potential. Through writing, she not only reclaims her personal narrative but also bears witness on behalf of her deceased parents and a lost homeland, inscribing her private grief within a larger framework of cultural memory. In conclusion, the article positions Peotäis mulda, lapike maad as a powerful example of autobiographical writing as a practice of survival, mourning, and self-reconstruction. It contributes to the fields of life-writing and music memoir studies by foregrounding the specific challenges faced by a female classical musician navigating exile, trauma, and creative renewal. By turning to the written word, Laretei finds a new modality through which to overcome silence and reassert agency, both as an artist and as a daughter of a disrupted cultural lineage.

aasta augustini

Teesid: Eesti NSV Heliloojate Liidus toimusid alates 1944. aasta sügisest kuni okupatsiooniaja lõpuni regulaarselt iganädalased töökoosolekud. Liidu kõigile liikmetele ja huvilistele avatud kohtumiste põhitegevuseks oli uue eesti heliloomingu ühine läbikuulamine ning teostele tagasiside andmine, võimu poliitiliseks eesmärgiks aga ideoloogiline kontroll uue heliloomingu üle. Artikkel keskendub koosolekute vaimsele õhustikule 1970. aastatel, kirjeldades nende vastuolulist rolli heliloojate töö- ja loomingualase heaolu kujundamisel tol perioodil. Käsitluse peamiseks uurimismaterjaliks olid töökoosolekute protokolliraamatud, mille analüüsimisel tugineti kvalitatiivse tekstianalüüsi printsiipidele. As in other socialist republics, the activities of Estonian composers and musicologists during the Soviet era were centralised under and controlled by the Estonian SSR Composers’ Union (CU). The organisation’s functions, activities, and associated member privileges and obligations differed markedly from similarly named unions from before and after the occupation. During the Soviet era membership was essential for pursuing a professional career in composition. Weekly working meetings, held consistently from autumn 1944 until the end of the occupation, shaped generations of composers’ routines. These Tuesday evening meetings at the Composers’ House in Tallinn typically lasted around two hours, were open to all members of the union and interested others, and included the presentation – whether live or recorded – and evaluation of new works. While functioning as a professional forum, these meetings also served as a tool for ideological control. This article examines the atmosphere at CU meetings in the 1970s, shedding light on the controversial effect they had on composers’ working and creative well-being. The analysis draws on meeting agendas, discussion content, work assessment criteria, the composers' expectations for feedback and critique, ideological rhetoric, and broader social reflections. It uses the principles of qualitative textual analysis to examine the now publicly available meeting minutes, archived at the Theatre and Music Museum. The analysis adopts Lloyd F. Bitzer’s theory of rhetorical situation (1968), viewing the meetings as rhetorical events shaped by procedural and ideological demands, such as approval for performances and eligibility for payment of royalties. Participants also operated under rhetorical constraints, balancing sensitivity toward the presenting composer with awareness of state ideology and potential mind control. The study also draws on Sally Anne Gross and George Musgrave’s research (2020) on the effect of music industry structures on artists’ mental health. Applied historically, their framework helps identify how institutional formats such as the CU’s weekly meetings affected creative agency and psychological well-being. The meetings often had an eclectic agenda, combining music listening with political lectures and pedagogical discussion, or sharing travel impressions with accompanying recordings. In 1977 alone, 38 meetings featured 42 of the 56 CU composers of various generations, encompassing a wide stylistic range from solo pieces to large-scale works, children’s music, educational material, dodecaphonic compositions, and popular estrada. Rarely did the programs follow a unified genre. By the 1970s, although the meetings’ ideological function remained in place, changes in the political climate and the rise of a new generation of composers had altered both the meetings’ atmosphere of control and the rhetoric of discussion. Despite the declining relevance of earlier rules requiring the ideological evaluation of works within the framework of socialist realism, as well as their approval prior to public performance, the meetings persisted, reflecting the era’s contradictions. It appears that composers themselves sensed the artificiality of the meetings, which by then continued mainly for formal reasons related to royalty payments. This was evident in occasional (ironic) reflections during speeches on the purpose and relevance of the meetings, especially regarding works already performed in concert or commissioned pieces whose royalties were not procedurally tied to the meetings. Ideological rhetoric manifested infrequently, and predominantly in conjunction with themed compositions, typically composed for state holidays. Nonetheless, these talks proceeded without notable shifts in atmosphere. Although social critique was largely absent from discussions, a few exceptions stood out. Raimo Kangro’s oratorio Credo sparked unusually sharp debate in January 1978. Subtle critical tones were also present in the December 1979 discussion of Veljo Tormis’s Songs of Sadness, composed before conductor Neeme Järvi’s emigration. However, these moments remained isolated. The expulsion of composers Arvo Pärt and Kuldar Sink from the CU in 1979, part of wider tension between artists and the regime, for example, was not reflected in meeting discourse. One frequent criticism by speakers was the inadequacy of evaluating works after only a single, often unpolished, performance. Consequently, comments about form, structure, or innovation had minimal influence on the overall direction of the meetings. Discussions tended to focus instead on whether a piece suited concert programming or education. These practical considerations drew consensus more easily. Genre classification, which affected royalty payments and had stylistic implications, prompted more frequent disputes. Despite the ideological and procedural formalities, protocols suggest that meetings in the 1970s generally took place in a relaxed atmosphere and visible tension was rare. One notable exception was the reaction to and by a young Mati Kuulberg’s work, though such instances were unusual. A pivotal figure in cultivating this collegial atmosphere was the composer Jaan Rääts, who assumed the role of chairman of the Union's board in 1974. His credo, articulated in a concluding statement during a 1973 discussion, encapsulated his approach: “Everyone should write according to their nature.” Composer Alo Põldmäe’s retrospective comparison between the working meetings and today’s common format of the creative laboratory appears somewhat idealised in the broader context of the 1970s, however. Even if the atmosphere had allowed for more substantive discussion, the structure and often eclectic repertoire of the meetings hindered it. Final remarks occasionally noted – alongside general thanks – that the work had sparked exchange in ideas. In reality, however, the comments often formed a scattered series of individual views, lacking substantive exchange. Such discussions were instead sought in more private settings, such as the Kuku Club in central Tallinn, a gathering place for artists and cultural figures, as Põldmäe has also recalled.

Teesid: Artikkel käsitleb, kuidas vene luuletaja Igor Severjanini (1887–1941) Eesti-perioodi luule – eeskätt kogu „Klassikalised roosid“ (1931) – peegeldab hübriidset kultuurilist identiteeti, mis kujunes pikaajalise kokkupuute kaudu Eesti kultuuriruumi ja ühiskonnaga. Kuigi Severjanin jätkas kirjutamist vene keeles, ilmutab tema tähelepanu Eesti maastikele, ühiskonnale ja isiklikele paguluskogemustele kahetist kuuluvustunnet. Tuginedes identiteediteooriatele (Giddens, Bhabha), väidab artikkel, et Severjanin tegutses kultuuridevahelises „kolmandas ruumis“. Tema näitel saab vaadelda, kuidas Eesti kirjandus võib hõlmata ka autoreid, kes kirjutavad teises keeles, kuid suhestuvad sügavalt siinse kultuurilise ja ühiskondliku kontekstiga. National-cultural Self-identification in Estonian Literary History: Igor Severyanin’s Classical Roses (1931) as a Reflection of Hybrid Identity This article presents an analysis of how Igor Severyanin’s (1887–1941) Estonian-period poetry, especially the 1931 collection Classical Roses, reflects a hybrid cultural identity shaped through long-term engagement with Estonian society. Although Severyanin continued to write in Russian, his sustained presence in Estonia, thematic focus, and cultural participation invite us to view his work within Estonian literary history. Migration – whether voluntary or forced – often initiates redefinition of personal and artistic identity. It challenges not only the writer’s linguistic choices, but also the ways in which they position themselves within multiple cultural frameworks. The article draws parallels with Estonian exile writers like Marie Under and Ilmar Laaban, who represent two poles: one retaining a monolingual cultural identity, the other developing a dual literary presence in exile. These cases frame the discussion of how identities are preserved, reshaped, or extended in diaspora. Such comparisons underscore how cultural belonging is not a fixed essence, but an ongoing negotiation between internal continuity and external change. The theoretical basis draws on Fromm, Erikson, Hall, and particularly Giddens, who sees identity as a reflexive, evolving narrative. Additionally, Bhabha’s concept of the ‘third space’ provides a model for understanding hybrid identity as a space of cultural fusion and negotiation, where individuals draw from multiple traditions to form something new. The third space resists binary opposition and creates the possibility for a productive in-between, where identity is constructed relationally rather than absolutely. A central distinction is drawn between multiple identity and hybrid identity. Multiple identity refers to the coexistence of various roles within one person, such as gender, profession, and nationality and is a common condition. Hybrid identity, in contrast, describes a synthesis of cultural identities where the elements influence and transform one another. To clarify the difference, the article uses two metaphors: a picnic basket and a hybrid car. A picnic basket holds diverse items side by side symbolising the layered but separate nature of multiple identity. A hybrid car, however, alternates or combines different energy sources mirroring how hybrid identity draws on more than one culture as active creative forces. The latter metaphor captures the dynamism of cultural interplay, where each identity component reshapes the whole rather than remaining static. Estonian literary history contains figures who have embodied these modes. Lydia Koidula, Marie Under, and Ilmar Laaban each navigated multilingual and multicultural environments in distinct ways. These examples reveal that national literature has often developed through contact, translation and reinterpretation rather than in isolation. Severyanin, while never switching from Russian, developed a second literary orientation rooted in Estonia’s nature, language milieu, and cultural networks. His poetry collection Classical Roses exemplifies this transformation. Structured into thematic sections, it gives weight to both Russia and Estonia. These sections are not in conflict, rather, they reflect parallel emotional and cultural investments. Severyanin praises and criticises both lands, revealing layered and evolving affiliations. His detailed descriptions of Estonian landscapes, rural life, and local people show more than surface fascination, they reflect lived experience and a sense of belonging. Notably, the book includes a personal statement declaring Toila as his permanent address from 1918, a gesture that reinforces his rootedness in Estonia. Although he continued to write in Russian, the subjects of his poetry increasingly reflected his new context. Themes such as nature, exile, and everyday life reveal Severyanin’s negotiation of his place between two cultural homes. His stylistic shift toward clarity and sincerity during the Estonian period further supports this realignment of poetic identity. The article challenges narrow, language-based definitions of literary canonicity. It argues that cultural engagement, in addition to language, should be a criterion for literary inclusion. Writers who embed themselves in the life, landscape, and discourse of a place may rightfully be considered part of its literature, even if they write in another tongue. Severyanin’s case demonstrates how such inclusion can be argued on thematic, contextual, and existential grounds. This reframing allows literary history to become more representative of the cultural complexities of real lives. In conclusion, Classical Roses can be read as a poetic document of hybrid identity, a record of dual belonging shaped by biography, geography, and artistic vision. The collection reflects Giddens’ idea of selfhood as a narrative project and Bhabha’s notion of a cultural third space. Severyanin’s continued connection to Russia, alongside his deep investment in Estonia, results in a dual identity that is not merely layered, but fused. This perspective supports a more inclusive understanding of literary history that acknowledges hybridity, migration, and intercultural dialogue as fundamental elements in modern literature. Severyanin’s work, situated between cultures, helps expand the boundaries of what Estonian literature can be.