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TRAVELLER
ON THE OUTSKIRTS
of Tallinn’s centre, less than a
kilometre from its picturesque medieval Old Town,
you’ll find an imposing concrete reminder of Estonia’s
Soviet past. Located in the industrial Kristiine district,
Polymer was one of the USSR’s largest toy factories. In
its heyday, around 1,200 workers were employed here,
manufacturing ice-hockey pucks, foam figurines and,
towards the end, basketballs.
Polymer’s claim to fame, however, was that it also
produced Misha, the USSR’s cute mascot for the 1980
Moscow Olympic Games. The smiling bear was a huge
merchandising success, coveted by children around the
world and proudly touted by the regime as the cuddly
face of communism. But it masked a more brutal
truth: life for the workers who made the toy was far
less cheery. Toiling long hours for hard taskmasters,
they were offered no protection from the poisonous
fumes that the latex and synthetic rubber gave off.
Theirs was an arduous task that continued until
manufacturing stopped in 1994.
How different things are today. Now, where
fearsome apparatchiks once stalked drably decorated
corridors, you’ll find Banksy-style graffiti and
impressive art installations in every corner. Old factory
doors hang on the walls, forming complex murals,
while outside one window someone has hung a
headless mannequin dressed in Victorian garb. That’s
because, since 2003, this entire complex has operated
as an artist’s colony, known as Polymer Kultuuritehas
(
Ülase 16, 22 Madara; kultuuritehas.ee
). It’s all part of
a quiet cultural renaissance taking place in Tallinn.
In recent years, the city has developed – unfairly, it
has to be said, for anyone who’s ever seen the beautiful
cobbled walkways – a reputation as a stag party
destination. But at the same time, a burgeoning art,
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During the Soviet era, Pata
music and performance scene has sprung up, relatively
unnoticed, in buildings that were once a crucial part
of the old regime: abandoned factories, crumbling
heating plants and even a former prison.
For decades, Russia used Estonia as a centre for
its manufacturing industry. Within Tallinn, there
were factories dedicated to making everything from
bread to electromechanical equipment. When Estonia
gained its independence in 1991, and went from
being part of the world’s largest country to one of its
smallest, it had no use for the wastelands of factories
left in the Soviet wake and for the next 12 years many
fell in to disrepair.
But now the city’s cultural elite are finding
a thrilling use for them. Anyone going for a
weekend stroll through Kalamaja, for instance – a
neighbourhood comprised of industrial architecture
Previous page,
a hallway in
Patarei Prison.
These
pages, clockwise from
above,
artists and
ContemporaryArt
Museumof Estonia
foundersAnders Härm
and Neeme Külm; an art
installation in front of the
19th-century Rottermann
Factories, which have
been given 21st-century
glass towers by architect
firmKOKO; the Polymer
Kultuuritehas, once a toy
factory and now an
artists’ colony; musician
and artist Jarmo Nagel
takes advantage of the
nightclub space in the
repurposed Patarei Prison
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