The first day I went to visit Riga’s Lutheran Cathedral, I was greeted at the top of a flight of stairs by a bronze armadillo, placidly making his way up the stairs from the sunken plaza around the church.
It’s not what I usually expect at a place like that, and comes with a companion, a unicorn that’s going nowhere. A fair amount of googling and chasing down rabbit holes has so far yielded no explanation for either, so I’ll make up my own. The armadillo represents the cathedral’s survival through over 800 years of twists and turns, and the unicorn represents a few unique bits of its history. Feel free, of course, to make up your own!
As in most places, the story of Riga’s cluster of cathedrals is closely linked with a broader history, but in Latvia there’s a peculiar twist: the first national referendum ever held, in 1923, was a vote on who could worship in which one; that was also the subject of another national referendum eight years later—one half of all the referenda of Latvia’s first independence! There’s a unique bit of history!
On display, the mechanical works of the cathedral’s old tower clock
In the end, this Cathedral, the largest and oldest, formally named for St Mary but commonly called the Dome Cathedral, was assigned to the Lutherans, It was started in 1211 by Bishop Albert of Riga, who, like much of the city population then, came from Germany to settle there. its common name is a bit redundant, since Dom is the German word for cathedral. That’s Albert between the two windows below.
It’s the largest medieval church in the Baltic states, and a convenient landmark for wandering around Riga; its tower seems to be in sight from almost anywhere.
Fine and dramatic carvings abound on many of the church’s fixtures
Like many others, it’s had a history of switching among congregations and faiths, trading hands between Lutherans and Catholics during the Reformation and Counter-Reformation, and as various Catholic or Lutheran armies took over the area.
Railing from pews of the Black Heads Brotherhood, younger unmarried traders
Over those years the cathedral’s appearance changed a lot as tastes in architecture changed, and especially after the 1547 Great Fire of Riga that destroyed most of the wooden parts, including the original Gothic tower. The dome on the tower dates to 1775.
During Russia’s 200-year rule of the area, from the 1720s through World War I, the cathedral’s congregation was mainly Baltic German Lutherans. But after Latvia’s independence, which left churches in the hands of the government, it became the center of a fight over clerical real estate, since part of the church was used by Catholics.
A 1923 public referendum, open to the whole country, gave Catholics a cathedral of their own by transferring St James, a Lutheran church, to their control. Another referendum in 1931 ended the sharing of the Dome.
As with most major churches under Soviet rule, there were no services while Latvia was a Soviet Republic. Instead, it served as a concert hall, and Soviet authorities spent $200,000 in hard currency to have Dutch experts rebuild the 19th-century German organ, played at its original dedication by Franz Liszt. A plaque commemorates the event.
I can testify to the magnificent sound: during my visit the organ was being played, with a video screen allowing us to see the otherwise hidden organist.
After independence was restored in 1991, a great deal of work went into restoring the church and its fittings, and it was turned again to religious use.
The cathedral’s stained glass is rich and extensive, some of the most beautiful I’ve seen. Nearly all of it was installed in the late 19th century, although one brightly-colored piece is quite recent.
The arcades of the former monastic cloister can be accessed from the Cathedral; they are lined with artifacts belonging to the Museum of Riga History and Navigation, which has been housed since the 1890s in the former monastery attached to the Cathedral.
Also in the former cloister, an opportunity for younger visitors to play.
