Little is known about painter Kārlis Hūns’ childhood and early years. Kārlis was the fourth of six children in the Hūns family. He could spend hours watching his father work in the carpentry workshop, often drawing his father’s creations with remarkably steady hands. After studying at Riga’s Dom School, he went to St. Petersburg in 1850 to become an artist. When it turned out that his knowledge was insufficient to begin studies immediately, Kārlis Hūns started working as an assistant lithographer-illustrator at the Russian Academy of Sciences. From 1852, he attended evening drawing classes at the St. Petersburg Academy of Arts and began his studies there in 1854, when he quit his lithographer work. Considering the Hūns family’s modest financial circumstances, his study years were likely marked by struggle.

This success largely determined Hūns’ future path: seven years of advanced studies in Paris, study trips (across Europe and Russia), attaining academic and professor status, teaching at the Academy of Arts in St. Petersburg, and participating in exhibitions (the Paris Salon, World Exhibitions, Academy of Arts exhibitions, and later the Traveling Art Exhibition Society shows). In 1870, the artist received the title of professor of historical painting, and in 1871 began teaching at the St. Petersburg Academy of Arts. At that time, Hūns’ creative and pedagogical career seemed destined to be long and successful. In 1874, he married Vera, the daughter of the Russian architect of Italian descent Ivan Monighetti (1819–1878). Unfortunately, in the same year, Hūns fell ill with throat tuberculosis, and the prolonged illness led to his death at the Davos resort in Switzerland. Fulfilling his wish, his remains were buried in Madliena Cemetery, where several members of his family were already laid to rest.

Contemporaries valued him highly as an artist, which is reflected in letters and publications, while few personal observations about Hūns have been preserved. One publication describes a meeting with him in Paris in 1864. Kārlis Hūns was of medium height, with brown, very kind eyes, red hair, and a reddish beard. He was phlegmatic by nature, rarely lost his temper, was kind-hearted and helpful, always reserved in conversation, and cautious in judging the actions of others, seeking mitigating circumstances. He was thrifty and allowed himself larger expenses only for his main passion – the acquisition of antiques. The publication also notes, in the author’s opinion, less pleasant traits: he read little, showed no interest in political processes, and was unable to assess them.

Already in 1870s Russia, reviews of the most significant art exhibitions of the time recognized Hūns’ artistic taste and the unusually masterful execution of his paintings, as well as the almost French elegance of his art and the European freedom and sophistication of his painting.

Hūns’ painting is characterized by rational and precisely constructed compositions, a harmonized and varied color palette, virtuoso imitation of real-life objects, and a balanced combination of painterly completeness with non-finito incompleteness. He also worked extensively in pencil and watercolor, where he sought sharply observed and precise impressions of nature.

Although Hūns studied historical painting and earned the title of professor of historical painting, he was more drawn to genre painting and the theme of ordinary people’s lives, usually choosing small formats for these works. He is also known as an excellent portraitist. His consistent interest in ethnography in its broadest sense – the life of people in its many manifestations – is noteworthy. Particularly notable are his watercolors of women from Madliena and Lielvārde in national costumes (1872). Hūns’ repeated return to themes of peasant and artisan work, daily life, and family suggests personal roots: his ideas about human relationships, about simple daily work as the foundation of human existence, and his childhood memories from Madliena.

Kārlis Hūns’ work belongs simultaneously to the art of Latvia, Russia, and Europe of the second half of the 19th century, yet his place in Latvia’s cultural and art history is unique. He was the first Latvian whose studies at the St. Petersburg Academy of Arts were crowned with the Grand Gold Medal and the opportunity to study abroad. His works are preserved in many museums and private collections across the former territories of the Tsarist Russian Empire. A significant collection is held by the Latvian National Museum of Art in Riga, where Hūns’ paintings are displayed in the permanent exhibition.

Recently, the museum acquired typical examples of creative expression from the 1950s – a plate and a small box used for storing jewellery or other delicate items. What makes them unusual is that they are crafted from greeting cards. Inside the box, a birthday greeting is visible, while the plate features fragments of New Year’s and May 1 holiday cards. These objects reflect the aesthetics and tastes of the era and illustrate the celebrated holidays. They may be classified as belonging to the naïve art style.

The shapes and designs of objects made from greeting cards were highly diverse. Most commonly, these included boxes and small containers in various forms, but vases, plates, and other items were also crafted. To create these pieces, patterns were typically prepared first and then used to cut out individual components. Holes were punched along the edges of the patterns with a sewing machine, and then the separate paper parts were joined together by hand with a special stitch. A thin layer of celluloid applied to the greeting card paper made the material harder and more durable.

Crafting objects from greeting cards became a popular hobby in the 1950s. Such items were made both individually at home and in small cooperative workshops for wider production and sale. Boxes of this type were also produced in handicraft classes at schools where Russian was the language of instruction. Special greeting card kits, complete with pattern samples for this creative process, were available in stores, indicating that there was already a demand for ready-made materials to support artistic expression.

This form of creative expression has not disappeared even today. Materials, technical execution, tastes, and traditions have evolved. Instructions for sewing paper boxes and other objects from greeting cards can now be found online, although glue has become a more convenient technique than sewing. In addition, cardboard is now more commonly used instead of greeting cards and can be covered or painted as desired.

One of the treasures in the collection of the Ogre History and Art Museum is a 1970s painting by Juris Ģērmanis depicting Ziedonis Krūmiņš, the first leader of the Ogre Photo Club.

In the autumn of 2017, the museum acquired three works by Juris Ģērmanis and 28 photographs by Ziedonis Krūmiņš.

The museum staff were surprised to receive three works by Ģērmanis from the 1970s, donated by Mārtiņš Bagātais, the godson of Ziedonis Krūmiņš’s wife, Astra. The artworks had been discovered in an apartment building on Grīvas Prospekts in Ogre.

Juris Ģērmanis was active in Ogre during the establishment of the Ogre Knitwear Factory. In the 1960s, he worked there as a decorative artist, having come to Ogre in the hope of obtaining an apartment. At that time, the Jaunogre residential district was under construction. He received an apartment on Padomju prospekts (now Mālkalnes prospekts), married a woman from Ogre, and their daughter Agnija was born there and attended school in the city.

The technical supervisor of the construction of the Ogre Knitwear Factory was the socially active Ziedonis Krūmiņš (1932–2008). In 1969, following the establishment of the Ogre Photo Club, he became its first leader, holding this position until 1974.

Ziedonis Krūmiņš and Juris Ģērmanis shared an office at the factory and became close friends. During this period, Juris Ģērmanis created a painting portraying Krūmiņš in a moment of rest, seated in an armchair and reading a book. In the background, a window with curtains opens onto a view of Ogre’s buildings.

In addition, Juris Ģērmanis created two portrait sketches of his friend – one in pencil and one in pastel – as well as a portrait of Astra Krūmiņa (1928–2017), Ziedonis Krūmiņš’s wife. All of these works are now part of the museum’s collection.

Ziedonis Krūmiņš was a very erudite and versatile individual. He held two higher education degrees – he graduated from the Faculty of Civil Engineering at Riga Technical University and obtained a higher education degree in journalism through distance learning. However, curiosity guided him throughout his life; he quickly mastered everything new and kept up with the times.

He was known to be a devoted reader and a passionate smoker.

He also enjoyed alpine skiing, travelling not only to Gaiziņš but even to Mount Elbrus to indulge in his hobby. Music was another of his passions, particularly classical jazz. In 1979, when Mārtiņš Bagātais visited Ziedonis Krūmiņš, he put on a tape recording and said: “Mārtiņš, listen to this fantastic band! This is something else!” It turned out to be The Jackson 5, featuring Michael Jackson.

Ziedonis Krūmiņš obtained his tape recordings from Juris Lapinskis, a leading recording specialist in Latvia in the 1970s and 1980s, who lived in a private house in Pārdaugava, where he recorded and distributed music.

Ziedonis Krūmiņš was also a great aesthete when it came to clothing. He had a wardrobe filled with suits and around 350 ties.

After retirement, he remained active not only in the Ogre Photo Club but also as an assessor at the Ogre Court. On one occasion, a court hearing involving Roma people was taking place. The entire camp had gathered, children were making noise, and when Ziedonis Krūmiņš and a colleague, both finely dressed, entered the courtroom before the judge, one of the Roma women turned to the noisy crowd and exclaimed: “Quiet, you fools! The gentlemen of the court are coming!”

In later years, the large tie collection was donated to the Latvian National Theatre.

Ziedonis Krūmiņš had a strong zest for life and a sense of humour. Even when he was already suffering from cancer and in poor health, he was able to joke in various situations.

Ziedonis Krūmiņš took many photographs and participated in exhibitions. As evidence of this, a poster printed at the “Cīņa” printing house survives from the 2nd Amateur Photographers’ Club Exhibition in 1962, dedicated to the 45th anniversary of the Great October Socialist Revolution. The exhibition opened on November 18.

The museum also received 28 black-and-white photographs by Ziedonis Krūmiņš, depicting people participating in various sports activities and relaxing by the sea. Many people are shown in their daily lives – working, chatting, eating, or carrying out everyday tasks. The photographs were taken in the 1970s.

The jacket of alpinist Aivars Bojārs (1959–1993) is a particularly significant new acquisition for the museum. Its value lies both in the fact that the jacket, together with its owner, reached an altitude of over 8,000 metres on the way to the world’s highest peak, Mount Everest, and in its connection to events that were closely followed by several Latvian newspapers in the early 1990s.

The jacket entered the museum’s collection as a donation from Voldemārs Eihe, former director of Ogres Commercial Bank. It had been given to the Eihe family by their neighbour and family friend, the alpinist’s mother, Lūcija Bojāre.

Aivars Bojārs was a well-known and experienced alpinist, President of the Latvian Youth Mountaineering Association, a medical doctor, and a coach for many young Latvian rock climbers in the 1980s. He wore this simple, warm sports jacket during his first and only attempt to climb Everest (8,848 m), when in November 1992 he set out to pursue his dream of reaching the world’s highest peak.

The jacket bears an emblem on the chest featuring a stylised Lithuanian flag and the inscription “EVEREST ’92 LIETUVA”, as the Baltic expedition was organised by the Lithuanian Alpinist Federation. The climbers had acquired the necessary physical preparation and equipment, yet in an interview prior to the ascent, Bojārs admitted that everything would depend on weather conditions. His assessment proved correct: at an altitude exceeding 8,000 metres, the 1992 Everest expedition was forced to abandon the climb due to severe weather, when a snowstorm and menacing gusts caught the climbers by surprise. Despite this setback, the passionate alpinist did not abandon his goal and planned another attempt. In an interview, Aivars Bojārs spoke about his longing for the mountains:

“The Himalayas are the ‘white islands’ for alpinists. They are the spiritual pole of the entire world. I go there without knowing what attracts me more – the high peaks or the spirituality. If I were not an alpinist, I would go there as a traveller. Alpinism is my path into this world of spirituality. In life, everything is directed towards a peak. When one is reached, we choose the next. All of life is an ascent – sometimes successful, sometimes not. Every person must find their own ‘white islands’, but the Himalayas are a universal place for everyone. Everyone should go there to gain the strength to live. I can only wish for everyone to find their own ‘white islands’.”

To prepare for a new attempt on Everest, in February 1993, Aivars Bojārs travelled to the Caucasus with several of his students, where he climbed Mount Elbrus (5,642 m) as a training ascent. Tragically, this became the final climb of the 33-year-old alpinist, and his dream of carrying the flag of the Republic of Latvia to Everest remained unfulfilled. Aivars Bojārs died after slipping on mirrored ice. A member of the climbing group later recalled: “Halfway up, Aivars slipped, and we were unable to help him on the 50-degree slope.” His death was later compared by many to that of a highly skilled pilot fatally injured while riding a bicycle.

It should be noted that in 1992, when Aivars Bojārs was preparing for his Everest ascent with the Lithuanian expedition, no alpinist from the newly independent Baltic states had yet reached the summit. Only in May 1993 did newspapers report that on May 10, Lithuanian alpinist Vladis Vitkauskas became the first climber from the Baltic states to reach Everest, carrying his country’s flag to the summit, as well as the Latvian flag, which Aivars Bojārs had been unable to do during the 1992 expedition.

Santa Šustere,
former History Specialist at the Ogre History and Art Museum

The Ogre History and Art Museum is launching a new story series titled “Museum Acquisition”. The series will highlight some of the most unique items recently added to the museum’s collection. To commemorate March 25, the Day of Remembrance for the Victims of Communist Genocide, we present a story about an object used during exile and preserved by its owner for decades.

March 25, 1949, remains in the memories of countless deportees as a day filled with uncertainty, fear, and grim foreboding. On that day, more than 42,000 residents of Latvia (13,504 families) were arrested and hastily deported to remote settlement areas in the USSR. Some died during the journey due to harsh living conditions – insufficient nutrition, heavy physical labour, cold, and illness. Others perished in their distant places of settlement. Many, having endured years of hardship, were able to return to Latvia in the second half of the 20th century.

Lidija Caunīte was among the tens of thousands who managed to return. A small, yellowed notebook preserves fragments of information about her years in exile.

The pocket-sized notebook was discovered in the attic of a house on Rīgas Street in Ogre by the building’s new owner. Recognising its emotional and historical value, he brought the notebook to the museum.

In the book “The Deported: March 25, 1949”, Lidija Caunīte’s name appears among the thousands who were deported. On the morning of March 25, 1949, she, together with her daughter, brother, and father, as well as her godfather and his family, began their journey to the Teguldet District of Tomsk Oblast. In 1956, Lidija Caunīte, her brother, and her godfather’s family were released from settlement. However, the seven years spent in Siberia brought painful losses – in January 1950, Lidija’s father died at the age of 60, and in October of the same year, her four-year-old daughter Valda died of pneumonia. The brief notes in the notebook offer only glimpses into the woman’s experiences.

Notes

March 25, Friday: “Beginning of red. rev.”; “Our arrest day. We leave home at 8:30.”

March 26: “Left Ogre at 19:30”

March 27: “Crossed the Latvian border at 2:30”

The following days list the cities through which the train echelon carrying the arrested passed: “Velikiye Luki – Bolovoye – Rybinsk – Danilov – Kirov – Molotov – Sverdlovsk – Omsk – Novosibirsk – Taiga; in the evening we arrive in Tomsk…”

April 10: “Unloaded from the echelon at the refugee camp.”

April 14: “Surrendered passports”

April 16: “Beginning.”

The subsequent days in the notebook are filled in irregularly. Most entries record tasks – gathering firewood, threshing grain, mowing, milking cows, and similar work – as well as weather conditions, letters sent and received, and occasional calculations. At times, a surname appears, accompanied by notes such as “taken to the hospital; we buried [them].”

In the longer entries, sadness and nostalgia for home are evident. In December 1949, the woman writes:
“Holiday days pass in housework. In the homeland, they celebrate them differently. Last year, bright candles sparkled on our Christmas tree at home. This year there are none, and God knows what we’ll do next year.”

Several pages of the notebook contain scribbles, possibly drawn by the woman’s daughter Valda. On one page, amid the swirling lines, the name “Valda” is written.

More detailed descriptions of individual days appear toward the end of the notebook. For example:
“Outside, a terrible blizzard. Today I washed laundry. I also have to go for firewood, as there’s only enough for a day. On February 26, I sold father’s glasses for potatoes. On February 23 Valda was vaccinated for smallpox.”

On March 25, 1950, she writes:
“Today marks one year since we left our homeland. Outside, there’s still deep snow and a blizzard, although the sun warms more than in winter, and we think spring will be here soon too. To mark the day we left our native home, I will write a letter to my homeland.”

The notebook was filled over several years, and notes from 1950 sometimes appear alongside entries from 1949. It is evident that after the hardships of 1950 – especially the loss of her daughter – the woman stopped writing. The final entries, consisting of corrected day names, are dated 1957 and were most likely added so that the notebook could still be used as a calendar, even eight years after its publication.

The March 1949 deportations were primarily directed at individual peasant farms and aimed at the elimination of “kulaks as a class” (a Soviet ideological term for peasant farmers) to enable rapid, forced collectivisation. One such farm targeted for liquidation was the “Stariņi” homestead in Ikšķile parish. As a result, its residents – Lidija Caunīte’s family – were forced to leave it on the morning of March 25.

The small format of the notebook did not allow for lengthy descriptions, and most likely there was neither time nor desire for them. Nevertheless, these brief, fragmentary phrases and concise daily records form an emotionally powerful historical testimony to what March 25 truly signifies – a day on which we fly the national flag with a black mourning ribbon.

Santa Šustere,
former History Specialist at Ogre History and Art Museum

An interesting find has entered the Ogre History and Art Museum – an old building element discovered in Ogre during the reconstruction works of Brīvības Street Square. As a tractor levelled a small mound in the centre of the square, Senija Proose, landscape architect of Ogre Municipality, noticed something unusual – an object that appeared to be a fragment of a building element. Senija Proose brought the rather heavy concrete find to the museum.

The museum’s archive contains documents and photographic materials related to the development of Brīvības Square dating back to the early 20th century. This find is a tangible historical testimony to the earliest history of the city of Ogre and to a building that once stood in the square.

In 1910, entrepreneur Mārcis Paucītis built a beautiful, large house and a stable in what is now the centre of Brīvības Street Square, then located at the corner of Lindenberg Street and Bērzu Avenue. The project was designed by the well-known architect Max von Ozmidoff. Unfortunately, the building’s existence was short-lived. In 1914, World War I began, and Mārcis Paucītis, like many other residents of Latvia, fled to Russia as a refugee. For two full years, the territory of Ogre was in the front line and subjected to heavy shelling by the German army from the left bank of the Daugava River. Almost all the summer houses of the Ogre resort and farmsteads were destroyed.

When the building’s owner Mārcis Paucītis returned home from Russia, he found only a pile of ruins where his house had once stood. The stable, however, had survived. It was rebuilt into a residential building, which still stands in the square today.

As can be seen in an old photograph of the building, the concrete element found in the square is a fragment of a decorative fence that once stood by the entrance doors on the building’s façade. It is possible that the square still holds other traces of the building that once stood there.

Evija Smiltniece,
Former Director of Ogre History and Art Museum

New acquisitions enter the museum’s collection in various ways. Most often, they are donations from individuals who no longer wish to keep certain items but, recognising their material or sentimental value, choose not to discard them.

The museum’s new acquisition – a porcelain dinnerware set from the Riga Porcelain and Faience Factory – is certainly one such item, as it arrived at the museum from beside a waste bin next to an apartment building on Tīnūžu Street. We must thank the anonymous owner: instead of being discarded into a container, the dishes were carefully placed in a box and left next to the waste for disposal.

The “Vita” dinnerware set is an excellent addition to the museum’s collection. Its value is enhanced by the good condition of the pieces and the fact that almost the entire set has been preserved, including the main items: a coffee pot, a creamer, and a sugar bowl, all with their original lids, as well as six cups and seven saucers. Only the dessert plates are missing (these are larger than saucers, smooth, with a ribbed edge, usually white, and decorated with the same pattern as the pot and cups).
The differing number of cups and saucers suggests that the set was likely intended for a larger number of people. The set that arrived at the museum represents what has remained of the full collection over the decades. For this type of dinnerware, the so-called “trio” – a cup, saucer, and plate – could be purchased separately, either as a souvenir or to supplement an existing set. It is possible that, for practical reasons, the owner decided to keep the dessert plates, as they are larger and therefore more functional than saucers.

As Iliana Veinberga, Chief Curator of the Riga Porcelain Museum, helped to clarify, “the set dates from the early production stage, as the sugar bowl is still of the ‘old’ type, with an expanded top opening. Soon after this design was developed, production considerations led to the sugar bowl being made inverted – with a narrow top and a wide base.”

Therefore, the dinnerware set most likely dates to the late 20th century, although similar sets – featuring the inverted sugar bowl shape – were mass-produced throughout the 20th century. It is made of so-called thin-walled porcelain, which was widely used in the 20th century and became one of the factory’s specialties during this period. Various technologies were used in the production of the pieces: the coffee pot, creamer, sugar bowl and cups are cast, while the saucers are moulded.

Although we rarely consider it in our daily lives, behind every household item stands an artist, technologist, or designer whose hours of dedicated work are later transformed into tangible objects that shape our everyday lives, interiors, and aesthetic taste. The form of the “Vita” dinnerware set was created by Zina Ulste, a long-time designer at the Riga Porcelain Factory, while the décor was designed by artist Maija Zagrebajeva. With its various décor variations, “Vita” is one of the Riga Porcelain Factory’s most popular and longest-produced dinnerware forms.

Former History Specialist of Ogre History and Art Museum
Santa Šustere

Recently, the collection of the Ogre History and Art Museum has been enriched with significant artefacts from the Soviet era. Ogre resident Kristīna Apine (née Lielbriede) donated her childhood playmates to the museum – four dolls, a rubber chicken, and the mascot bear of the Moscow Olympic Games. Remarkably, all of these 40-year-old toys appear as if they have just come off a store shelf.

Kristīna Apine: “In my childhood, I had many toys – soft toys and various dolls. My father worked as a chief engineer at the well-known ‘Sakta’ store in Riga, and this position was, of course, considered very good during Soviet times. I also had dolls that he brought back from his business trips abroad. I remember my parents always taught me to treat my dolls with love. I never had all the toys I owned at my disposal, because my parents figured out which ones I liked best, left those out, and put the rest in the top compartment of the wall unit. After half a year, they would take them out again, and they seemed new to me.”

Three of the dolls Kristīna Apine donated to the museum still have their original clothing. However, Kristīna notes that she particularly enjoyed making clothes for her dolls herself. Her grandmother, Vilhelmīne Magazniece (née Villeruša), was a skilled needlewoman and taught Kristīna many of her techniques.

In the apartment on Padomju Avenue (now Mālkalnes Avenue) where the Lielbriede family lived, there was a substantial collection of “Atpūta” magazines on the bookshelf. As a child, Kristīna was captivated by the beautiful and feminine clothing designs she saw there. Later, many of her dolls were dressed in clothing inspired by the 1920s and 1930s.

Although the dolls Kristīna Apine donated to the museum are perfectly preserved, she admits that she played with them wholeheartedly. Like children, her dolls also “fell ill” and wanted to be beautiful. As a result, some had their hair cut, others were “injected” with a large glass syringe into their “veins” or had bandages applied, and almost all of the dolls had been in the bath – their hair washed and then wrapped in her mother Ināra’s metal rollers with elastic bands. Kristīna laughs, saying there were some “sacrifices of love” and the lives of these toys ended in the distant Soviet era.

The Ogre History and Art Museum thanks Kristīna Apine of Ogre for her donation.

This is a time when many Soviet-era artefacts have been discarded and lost to oblivion. Meanwhile, others that have found their way into preservation have lost the stories of their original owners. The greatest value of museum collection items lies in their stories – their testimonies – which most vividly create a connection to a specific era, revealing everyday life, daily routines, the people, and their lives.

Gunta Šmidre,
former Information Specialist of the Ogre History and Art Museum