In the contented warmth of Arvo Pärt’s “Morning Star,” the concluding notes rang out, like a surge of electricity through a brightening lightbulb. The sun had set on the last day of 2025’s Estonian Music Week, and yet, there was a glow in the sanctum of the church. An exhilarating voyage was complete.
Over a dozen pre-festival and festival events showcased Estonia’s primary cultural export—music. The sheer range nourished hearts and souls.
It started simply at first. DROM Taberna, a place where patrons freely play, sing, dance, and socialize, hosted a jam session led by Hypnosis Negative. Katariina Tirmaste and Alan Mackie started with a merry melody in unison, joined by bandmates and visitors on drums, bass synth, fiddles, flutes, bagpipe, vocals, and even tap dancing. Estonian folk standards and new compositions were combined with unexpected rhythms as dancers twirled.
The official launch of the festival was to take place the following day, however. On May 22nd, the Gardiner Museum, central on the Bloor St. Culture Corridor, opened its top floor for guests. While mingling, attendees enjoyed short sets by Al Qahwa, Curly Strings, and Mart Avi. Even rain couldn’t snuff out the playfulness, like when Mart Avi appeared on-stage with a red umbrella.
Meanwhile, the question on everyone’s lips was “Are you going to Salakõrts after?” That night, Division 88 on Geary Lane hosted a Secret Saloon, reminiscent of past ESTO festivals. Now In Service rocked through sets of originals and party hits. The energy never waned as the trio delivered high-power grooves and hooks, inspiring boogying and polka dancing at the front.
At the same time, throughout the duration of EMW, the festival’s Nordic Connect Conference was successfully strengthening relationships on creative and business levels between Canadians and Europeans.
Speaking of hooks and grooves, the initial days of EMW were definitely the ones most focused on what might be considered “pop songwriting,” even if within a folk or other genre context. The pin was dropped on Revival on College Street for Friday May 23rd, which, true to its name and history as a church, was almost overflowing with excited audiences. Under cozy lanterns, The Crosslegs delivered songs with poetic nuances, rhythmic complexity, and flute lines that created a fresh sound. This was a special North American debut, and a homecoming for Toronto-born singer/ guitarist Alden Kirss.
Les Rats d’Swompe, in lumberjack plaid with beer keg mic stands, delivered a truly Canadian spectacle with their hard rock Franco-Ontarian fiddle folk. The apex of the night was Curly Strings. As one of Estonia’s biggest bands, they drew a strong, committed crowd, eliciting plenty of call-and response. Their most sensitive moment was the poignant occupation story of “Mind nad kätte ei saa” (“They Won’t Catch Me”), moving many to tears.
The afternoon of Saturday May 24th had a special singing angle, when a cappella groups Countermeasure and Estonian Voices flowed charismatically through vocal numbers of their own creation and a few covers. The relaxed Innis Hall theatre was ideally suited to this show (as well as the Ensemble U: performance the next day), giving fertile ground for inner-song jokes—like bringing The Proclaimers’ “500 Miles” in line with the metric system—and participation, like when singer Kadri Voorand invited each audience member to hug or kiss, or to voice their preferred animal noise. Still, levity wasn’t the only thing on the bill: Estonian Voices’ cover of the Curly Strings song “Kättemaks” (“Revenge”) shows the aftermath of infidelity like no other. The highlight of Countermeasure’s set had to be Joe Hisaishi’s “One Summer’s Day”, an achingly beautiful song from the Studio Ghibli film Spirited Away.
Within a few hours, St. Anne’s Parish Hall was the stage of two back-to-back shows: Tuulikki Bartosik x Sander Mölder and Caracol, followed by Mart Avi and One Hundred Moons. Projections on the back wall created the right atmosphere, as all four acts are true soundscape architects. For Tuulikki Bartosik x Sander Mölder, the set was an act of international travel. Accordion, synths, kannel (zither), and singing whisked us through important places in Tuulikki’s life. At the end of the night, One Hundred Moons were transportive in a raw way, with heavy drums and instrumental effects that cracked through to another realm. In between, Caracol and Mart Avi infused their shows with discotheque pulsations. Both are particularly talented at lifting the room up with their live presences. Caracol’s sonic landscape was sunny, f itting her reggae musical origins, while Mart Avi’s mystery and intrigue made the stage feel like a Milan Fashion Week runway.
In a way, during the festival, downtown Toronto felt like it had become Estonia. But this feeling of being in Estonia came to a head on Sunday May 25th, when the intersection of Bloor Street and Madison Avenue was the site of a Külasimman (Village Party), running at the same time Doors Open. Welcoming to all, the Külasimman attracted crowds for crafts, art, a sauna, food, embroidery, folk dancing, and music. Doors Open visitors saw VEMU Estonian Museum Canada and took part in Erik Laar’s DJ workshops. A sudden torrential downpour forced everyone inside part way through the performance of songwriter and educator Tiiu Strutt, but if anything, it brought everyone together even more for the performances by Tiiu, TERR Kungla, Blumarelo, a choir (with members from Estonia Koor, Toronto Eesti Meeskoor, and TEAS Ööbik), and Curly Strings.
Late afternoon saw a return to Innis Hall for Ensemble U: to play Udo Kasemets’ “Timetrip to Big Bang and Back,” which was made possible due to the generous support of Alan Teder. It took a few moments to properly soak in the music, but augmented reality visuals and unfamiliar sounds fast-tracked listeners to a therapeutic state with Ensemble U:. Between droning violin, gongs, bowed cymbals, finger-tapped tom toms, and Gayle Young’s Columbine and Amaranth instruments, nothing was the same after watching this.
Which brings us to the finale of the festival—Vox Clamantis at Trinity-St. Paul’s. Here, Gregorian chant stood alongside compositions by Arvo Pärt, Lembit Avesson, Veljo Tormis, Helena Tulve, and a premiere of “Kõik inglid taeva valguses” (“All Angels in the Light of Heaven”) by Toronto-raised composer Riho Esko Maimets. As the dusk light poured in through the windows, one could mediate and imagine the tribulations and tender hope of humanity in the blending of each singer’s voice.
The festival unleashed such an expanding universe of music and human creativity that one is now left to relish in a warm, uplifted, hopeful feeling for the future. If art continues to be made, if artists keep doing what they do, we have much to be hopeful for.
Vincent Teetsov
# The article was first published in the Eesti Elu / Estonian Life newspaper