Happy Birthday, Riga! About the places of your favorite city—in the words of famous residents

I have the warmest memories of Āgenskalns. For many years, I walked daily from my native Pētersala to the German Gymnasium, shielded from the bustling street by Riga’s tallest hedge. During my school years, I attended the school that changed names frequently: Zenta Ozola 5th Secondary School, 5th Secondary School, Agenskalna Gymnasium, and finally Riga State German Gymnasium.

Next to the school lies Āgenskalna Pines, once known as Āgenskalna sil or Švarcmuiža forest. In the early 20th century, it was a beloved recreational area for locals, bustling with activity. People engaged in sports, picnics, and winter sledding on its large pine-covered dunes. There were even plans for an amusement park and a bobsleigh run. Unfortunately, the Soviet era halted this idyllic scene, as the dunes were excavated, trees felled, and the first Latvian apartment blocks constructed.

The neighborhood has preserved a part of the wooden Riga. Kalnciema Quarter is a standout, but the restored Haman’s Manor is also noteworthy. Āgenskalns Market has revitalised as a popular gathering spot. The neighborhood retains its unique charm, housing not only my childhood memories and school but also Ķiršu Street in nearby Dzirciems.

I was born and raised in Jūrmala. My first encounter with Riga occurred in second grade when my parents enrolled me in classes at the Pioneer Castle. During Soviet times, this was housed in the building where the Residence of the President of the Republic of Latvia is located nowadays, on the Daugava River’s bank. 

It was an amazing experience: the class was led by sculptor and poet Vija Mikāne (1937–2004). 

Another vivid memory: my father was interested in history and various historical events, as well as peculiar and strange places. Sometimes after classes, we would go to Lielie kapi (the Great Cemetery; formerly also Old German Cemetery), which at that time was in a deplorable state: almost everything was destroyed. 

But you could wander around a bit and go down into the catacombs, where there were old burials. Although they had already been looted, it made a huge and mystical impression. What was happening there had a strong impact, especially on me as a child who took everything literally. Conceptualization wasn’t happening yet, but looking at it from the present perspective, these childhood memories are very vivid precisely because of these contrasts: on the one hand, the orderly creative life in the Pioneer Castle, and on the other, the dead ruined environment of the Great Cemetery.

Riga is an extremely important city for me as an artist. Working with public space in terms of structure and context, I experience this space through a collective experience.

In general, I visit places in Riga with specific goals—food, drink, or shopping. However, there are places that draw me in for their atmosphere and ambiance. Monte Kristo café on Ģertrūdes Street is my go-to spot. Since living in London, I’ve craved authenticity, history, and a sense of belonging in the places I frequent.

On my way to Monte Kristo café, I wonder if I will meet one of the pioneers of the Latvian creative industry sitting there. This possibility evokes a forgotten shyness, and I find myself fantasising about careers in music, theatre, fashion, or writing.

Monte Kristo is associated with a concrete resilience and humanity, which is absorbed from the staff into the patrons. It provides a nice balance between all these gluten concerns, a hundred different milks and lime-juice-based cuisine of other food places. 

Here I savor the aroma of coffee, indulge in the best “rasols” in town, and admire the “groziņi” in which I can only guess what is baked inside. Thank you, Monte Kristo, for providing this unique experience. I’m not talking anyone into it—and I won’t be upset if you don’t want to go there. 

Riga holds a special place in my heart; it’s a city I never tire of. In my opinion, it is optimally sized, offering the perfect balance between urban life and peaceful living.

Since childhood, I have loved walking through the city on my own. Park alleys, with their serene and inviting atmosphere, have always been my favourite spots. Riga’s unique charm lies in its ability to blend the vibrancy of city life with the tranquillity of nature, making it an ideal place for people to live and thrive.

Zuzeum, Latvia’s central contemporary art venue, houses my heart and collection—the world’s largest private collection of Latvian art. Located in a beautifully renovated 19th-century cork factory, Zuzeum not only showcases the latest in modern art but also serves as a testament to Latvia’s rich cultural heritage, making it a must-visit for art enthusiasts and collectors alike.

Riga is renowned for its exceptional Art Nouveau architecture, a true gem in the city’s urban landscape. The city boasts one of the largest and most well-preserved collections of Art Nouveau architecture in Europe, particularly concentrated in the district around Albert Street . These architectural masterpieces continue to captivate with their calm beauty. I particularly enjoy dining at the restaurants in this area in the evening and taking a leisurely stroll afterward, savoring the beauty and ambiance of these architectural masterpieces. 

The Freedom Monument bench , on the right side when looking towards the Old Town, near/under the middle tree. It is in this location that the ideas for many of Kiwie’s artworks and projects have been conceived—sitting, listening, observing, writing down, sketching.

Barona Street, right along the edge of Vērmane Garden. Even if it is logistically disadvantageous for me, I always choose to go this way. Mostly because of the big trees and leaves, but also because of the memories—the first stencils were made on this street in 2005.

Stabu Street —almost the whole stretch, associated with love, friendship, broken hearts and adventure. This street has been the site of countless important concepts that have influenced the nuances of Latvian street art and street wear today.

Riga is full of places that evoke pleasant and bright memories for me.

One of the places where I spent the most time in my childhood is Riga State Gymnasium Nr. 2, where I studied until 9th grade, as well as the courts on Kronvalda Boulevard behind the National Theater.

I remember how in winter my classmates and I even played hockey on the tennis courts. In the summer, I also participated in several youth tennis tournaments there, which laid the foundation for my further development and my choice to become a professional tennis player.

Therefore, I am very glad that together with the Tennis Union of Latvia we managed to revive these courts, where perhaps in the future, someone will make a similar important decision for themselves, as I did in my time.

I am an absolute centre girl. I tried living in Pārdaugava, but soon I came back. There are a few places in the centre that I’ve come to love for their special aura—Lielie kapi (The Great Cemetery) and Andrejosta Pier. 

Andrejosta Pier—the absolute opposite, but with its robustness, a former closed industrial area that in recent decades has successfully integrated into the vibrant urban environment of the capital’s centre. It is a fantastic sunset-watching spot: on a fine summer evening, it is worth cycling down and switching off for a moment, letting the river flow serenely, the sun shine, the wind flow and watch the yachts, ships or roaring motor boats rush by, their rhythm to the sea or the city.

I dream that Riga would be a special place, like many places in old Europe, that stands the test of time over many decades. A café, restaurant, or boutique where the quality, the aura, is constant, and where a certain family in its third or fourth generation runs the place. One that has its own story, where you are known and feel like you belong. A place where our visitors to Riga return year after year—and for years. This is my sincere wish for Riga.