The Baltic States’ regaining independence from Soviet occupation was remarkable for its largely non-violent character. Enabled by the political reforms of perestroika and glasnost, it began as a form of cultural resistance with symbolic actions becoming tools of political change. In Latvia, one of the most notable visual symbols for this process was the Soviet banned national flag, which gradually transformed from a forbidden emblem of identity into an open act of resistance. In the Baltic States during the late 1980s, subtle gestures that communicated dissent without immediately provoking repression became central to the movement known as the Singing Revolution (1987–1991). Early activities rarely involved demands for full independence. Instead, environmental campaigns, commemorations of the victims of Stalinist deportations, and a revival of cultural traditions took place. These actions hinted at a deeper problem – the legitimacy of Soviet rule itself. Symbols played a crucial role in this non-violent resistance process. Among the most powerful were the emblems of the interwar Latvian state, especially the carmine red and white flag, banned after the Soviet occupation of 1940.

Historical Roots of the Flag

The carmine and white color scheme had long been associated with Latvian identity. References to these colors appear already in the 13th-century Livonian Rhymed Chronicle, and by the late 19th century, these colours had become a symbol of the Latvian national awakening. When Latvia declared independence in 1918, the carmine-white-carmine flag became the new state’s official emblem. But when the Soviet Union occupied Latvia in 1940, the flag was banned, and displaying it could lead to arrest, imprisonment, or deportation. Yet many Latvians, especially among youth groups, continued to use it both secretly and publicly as an act of protest, as a reminder of the lost independence. One of the most dramatic examples of this occurred in 1963 when a young student, Bruno Javoišs (1941–2025), climbed a 76-meter radio tower in Riga and raised the banned flag in protest against Soviet rule. He was arrested immediately and sentenced to seven years’ imprisonment in Mordovia.

The Return of the Flag

By the late 1980s, public displays of the flag began to appear, though still technically illegal and risky. Later on, with the loosening of the Soviet regime during the Singing Revolution, the flags of the Baltic countries were reinstated even before full independence was achieved. Consequently, some of the first occasions during the Singing Revolution on which the flags were publicly displayed have gained special significance in the collective memory of the Baltic States. The first recorded proper public display of the banned Latvian flag took place on April 19, 1988, at the funeral of political dissident Gunārs Astra (1931–1988). Gunārs Astra was one of the most prominent members of Latvia’s national resistance movement, who in total spent nearly 20 years in Soviet imprisonment. At his funeral, thousands of mourners saw his coffin draped in the banned flag and lined up to pay respect by filling his grave with handfuls of sand. Two months later, on June 14, 1988, political activist and a member of the human rights defense group Helsinki 86, Konstantīns Pupurs (1964–2017), carried the banned flag through Riga during a demonstration commemorating victims of Stalinist repression. Afterwards, Soviet authorities forced him to leave the Latvian Soviet Socialist Republic. The third of these most memorable moments occurred on July 13, 1988, at the opening concert of the International Folklore Festival Baltica ’88 in Riga. The festival, which is organized and held in one of the three Baltic states each year, first took place in 1987 in Vilnius, and continues to this day. The second edition of the festival, Baltica ’88, was also one of the defining points of Latvia’s folk revival movement.

Baltica ’88: A Cultural Festival Turns Political

The folk revival movement marks the increased interest in folklore and traditional culture in large parts of Latvian society from the late 1970s to the 1990s. The mushrooming of folklore groups was at the core of the process, but it was interwoven with folk art, crafts, and an interest in history and regional studies. Aimed against the stylized folklore performances promoted by the Soviet cultural policy, the folk revival movement became a powerful expression of countercultural creativity and an alternative lifestyle. The International Folklore Festival Baltica was one of the events that united folk revival movements in all three Baltic states, and the one in 1988 was of particular importance due to clear anti-Soviet statements. Until then, the movement had often been seen as a kind of cultural refuge, an alternative lifestyle that celebrated heritage but avoided overt politics. That changed dramatically at the opening concert of Baltica ’88. When performers appeared with the banned carmine-white-carmine flags –  contrary to some later accounts, there was not just one flag and not just one person carrying it; many folklore groups brought their own flags – the audience was electrified. For the participants, it became one of the most unforgettable moments of the festival. Some Soviet officials reportedly left the hall in protest. The following festival procession through Riga and past the Freedom Monument allowed thousands more to see the flags openly displayed. What had once been a secret act of resistance was now a public statement.

Symbolic Defiance in the Baltics

Similar scenes had been unfolding across the Baltic region. In Estonia, the first public display of the banned blue-black-white flag had taken place on April 17, 1988, during a procession by the Heritage Protection Society in Tartu, and on May 14, 1988, at the Tartu Music Days. For Lithuania, it was at a commemoration of the June 14 deportations in 1988 and July 1–3, 1988, when all three Baltic flags were displayed during the Baltic students’ choral festival Gaudeamus in Vilnius. In these moments, the flags served a particular task. They helped people recognize themselves as a collective movement, which was a key ingredient in non-violent resistance. The events of the Gaudeamus festival are described in detail by Guntis Šmidchens in his masterfully written book The Power of Song. Nonviolent National Culture in the Baltic Singing Revolution:

Soviet officials rushed to confiscate the flags, which at that moment were still illegal in Lithuania, but they were not able to push through the choir of seven thousand singers, clustered together tightly, singing, and so those who had revealed the festival’s true colors remained unpunished. Baltic flags then emerged at every festival event, unmindful of the scores of policemen who looked on. Choirs in the festival procession carried at least four Lithuanian, seven Latvian, and many more Estonian flags, with all singers carrying lapel ribbons of their national colors. From this moment on, public singing events in Lithuania would always include the flags that marked them as being non-Soviet.” (Šmidchens 2014: 160)

Events like these were characteristic of the Singing Revolution, reflecting a form of non-violent resistance expressed through symbolic and mass civic actions such as flower-laying ceremonies, demonstrations, meetings, large petition campaigns, displays of national symbols, and major protests like the Baltic Way.

From Folk Culture to Political Movement

For Latvia’s folk revival movement, the appearance of the banned flag at Baltica ’88 marked a turning point. What had once been primarily a cultural activity centered around collecting folk songs, performing traditional music, and celebrating heritage now became an explicit form of political engagement. In the years that followed, folk groups joined mass demonstrations and the barricades that defended Latvian independence in January 1991. Their songs, costumes, and symbols became part of a broader movement demanding freedom. As for the banned flag, the events moved quickly after the summer of 1988. On September 29, the Latvian Soviet authorities officially relegalized the carmine-white-carmine flag as a “culturally historical symbol”. Soon, it appeared widely at public gatherings and celebrations. By 1990, it had become the official flag of the Latvian Soviet Socialist Republic, and after full independence in 1991, it was restored as the national flag of the Republic of Latvia. The carmine-white-carmine flag thus tells a larger story: It shows how small symbolic acts like singing a song, wearing a ribbon, and raising a flag can gradually evolve into powerful political resistance. In Latvia, those symbols helped transform cultural identity into a movement that ultimately reshaped history.

Audiovisual sources

Online exhibition The Folklore Movement in Latvia. Available at: https://lfk.lv/the-folklore-movement-in-latvia/

Baltica ’88 opening concert. Archive of the Estonian Public Broadcasting, https://arhiiv.err.ee/video/vaata/baltica-88-avakontsert-1-osa

Alfrēds Stinkuls Collection, LFK 2264. Archives of Latvian Folklore, https://garamantas.lv/en/collection/1753523/Alfreda-Stinkula-kolekcija

Further reading

Beissinger, Mark R. Nationalist Mobilization and the Collapse of the Soviet State. Cambridge University Press, 2002.

Bergmane, Una. Politics of Uncertainty: The United States, the Baltic Question, and the Collapse of the Soviet Union. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2023.

Bertran, Aleida. “Theorizing Festival Programmes as Manifestos: The International Folklore Festival Baltica during the Singing Revolution (1987–1991)”. Letonica, No. 57 (2025): 102–124. https://doi.org/10.35539/LTNC.2025.0057.05

Karklins, Rasma. Ethnopolitics and Transition to Democracy: The Collapse of the USSR and Latvia. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1994.

Lindqvist, Mats. “Giving Voice to the Nation: The Folkloristic Movement and the Restoration of Latvian Identity”, 185–243. Lindqvist, Mats (ed.). Re-inventing the Nation: Multidisciplinary Perspectives on the Construction of Latvian National Identity. Botkyrka: Multicultural Centre, 2003.

Muktupāvels, Valdis. “The “Dangerous” Folksongs: The Neo-folklore Movement of Occupied Latvia in the 1980s”, 73–90. Peddie, Ian (ed.). Popular Music and Human Rights. Vol. II: World Music. Farnham & Burlington, Ashgate, 2011.

Pumpuriņš, Tālis. Latvijas valsts karogs [Latvian national flag]. Nacionālā enciklopēdija. Available: https://enciklopedija.lv/skirklis/8867-Latvijas-valsts-karogs, 2025.

Stavělová, Daniela; Buckland, Theresa Jill. Folklore Revival Movements in Europe post 1950: Shifting Contexts and Perspectives. Prague: Institute of Ethnology of the Czech Academy of Sciences, 2018.

Škapars, Jānis (ed.). The Baltic Way to Freedom: Non-Violent Struggle of the Baltic States in a Global Context. Rīga: Zelta grauds, 2005.

Šmidchens, Guntis. The Power of Song. Nonviolent National Culture in the Baltic Singing Revolution. Seattle, London: University of Washington Press, 2014.

Ūdre-Lielbārde, Digne (2025). “Visualizing Cultural Opposition: Folklore Movement in Late Soviet Latvia”. Letonica 57 (2025): 68–100, special Issue “Folklore Revivals in Non-Democratic Contexts”. https://doi.org/10.35539/LTNC.2025.0057.04

Der Schiffbruch ist mehr als ein nautisches Unglück – er fungiert als paradigmatische Metapher und Erzählfigur für Krisen, Umbrüche und Neuorientierungen. Der interdisziplinäre Workshop untersucht epochenübergreifend Deutungsmuster, Schreibweisen und kulturelle Symboliken des Schiffbruchs, mit besonderem Fokus auf die durch ihn ausgelösten Transformationen: Welche existenziellen, sozialen, historischen oder ökologischen Folgen ziehen Schiffbrüche nach sich? Welche Schäden werden verursacht; wie und mit welchen Mitteln werden diese dargestellt und bearbeitet; welche moralischen, sozialen und wirtschaftlichen Verantwortlichkeiten entstehen dabei?

Im Zentrum des Workshops stehen somit die strukturellen Funktionen des Schiffbruchs als Form der Peripetie sowie seine anthropologischen, literarischen und philosophischen Implikationen: Wie wird der Schiffbruch als einschneidendes Ereignis erzählt und wie relationiert er dabei ein Vorher und Nachher zueinander? Welche unterschiedlichen Formen der Bewältigung – wie Versuche der heroischen Rettung, der technologische Kontrolle und Risikominimierung oder des Sich-Fügens – werden entworfen und diskutiert? Welche Darstellungsformen und Schreibweisen sind für Schiffbruch-Narrative charakteristisch und in welchen generischen und diskursiven Traditionen stehen diese?

Im Schiffbruch wurde und wird eine grundlegende Reflexionsfigur menschlicher Existenz und menschlichen Handelns gesehen. Eine Besonderheit dieser Metaphorik liegt in ihrer engen Verflechtung mit wissens- und technikgeschichtlichen Aspekten. Der Figur wurde im Hinblick auf die Verhandlung menschlicher Transgressivität eine historische Spezifik zugeschrieben, die von einer antiken Hybris-Kritik ausgeht und eine zunehmende Selbstermächtigung in der Frühen Neuzeit konstatiert, den Schiffbruch also mit einer (westlichen) Modernisierungserzählung verknüpft. Das wirft Fragen nach den blinden Flecken dieses Narrativs auf: Welche Traditionszusammenhänge, Gattungen, Darstellungsweisen und Reflexionsformen wurden dabei tendenziell ausgeblendet? Wo lassen sich Brüche und Spannungen einer solchen Geschichte zunehmender Rationalisierung, etwa in der Adressierung von Kontingenz und Vorsorge, ausmachen?

Der interdisziplinäre Workshop wird von Greifswalder Literaturwissenschaftler*innen in Kooperation mit dem Graduiertenkolleg „Baltic Peripeties“ sowie den Universitäten Rostock und weiteren Partner*innen organisiert. Beiträge aus Literatur- und Geschichtswissenschaft, Philosophie und Skandinavistik sollen gattungstheoretische Fragen, geschichtliche Verantwortungszuschreibungen sowie epistemologische und medienhistorische Aspekte des Schiffbruchs als Umbruch reflektieren.

Organisation

Dr. Alexandra Heimes

Dr. Falk Quenstedt

Prof. Dr. Tina Terrahe

Dr. Alexander Waszynski

„Daß wir uns einer Wegkreuzung nähern – wer von uns spürte es nicht?“ So schließt der Eintrag zum 25. September 1940 in Klaus Manns Der Wendepunkt. Ein Lebensbericht (1952). Den Anlass gibt ein publizistischer Erfolg: Nach langem Ringen haben sich Mittel – und Beiträger – für Manns neue, im New Yorker Exil begründete Zeitschrift zusammengefunden. An eben diesem Septembertag, nach Eintreffen der beiden ersten Manuskripte von Aldous Huxley und Bruno Walter („Kein schlechter Anfang!“), jubelt er: „Die Zeitschrift kommt zustande!“ Die Wegkreuzung, von der die Rede ist, dient als Leitmetapher: für das Vorhaben, mehr noch für den verheerenden Zustand der Welt, dem es mit literarischen Mitteln begegnen will. „The fact that we venture, just now, on the foundation of a literary periodical–of a review of Free Culture–is in itself a gesture of protest and a gesture of hope“, heißt es im späteren Editorial.

Beim im Herbst 1940 erwogenen Namen „The Cross-Road“ ist es nicht geblieben. Kurz vor Erscheinen der ersten Ausgabe wird die Zeitschrift, die zuerst „Solidarity“, dann „Zero-Hour“ heißen sollte, noch einmal umbenannt. Ein Kollege hatte zu bedenken gegeben, der Name klinge zwar „ganz hübsch“, könnte aber auch auf herausgeberische Unbedachtheit schließen lassen. Manns Antwort: „If Cross-Road sounds undecided, why, I’ll call it Decision.“ So soll, in bester rhetorischer Tradition, jeder Eindruck von Unentschiedenheit vermieden werden, insbesondere hinsichtlich der Auswahl der Beitragenden. Die von ihnen eingebrachten Gewichte scheinen Mann sorgfältig austariert. In den ersten Nummern sollen u. a. mit dabei sein: Robert Nathan („Schriftsteller von Niveau: kann nützlich sein!“), Horace Gregory („sehr angesehen bei der Avantgarde“) und Christopher Lazare („brillanter Stilist und Causeur“). Nach dem ersten Heft im Januar 1941 aber sogleich die übliche Selbstkritik: „Nicht so viel ‚Prominente‘! Mehr Jugend! Mehr Experiment!“

Literatur gerade jetzt: die trotzige Formel ist Provokation und Refugium. Sie hängt eng mit dem parallel bearbeiteten Wendepunktbegriff zusammen. Die Kombination aus Kairos-Moment und Weggabelung („an jedem Wendepunkt hat man die Wahl“) hat den Vorzug der Polyvalenz, einsetzbar für Mikro- und Makrogeschichte gleichermaßen. Das Publikationsmedium markiert ihren Schnittpunkt. Die ‚Entscheidung‘ geht ganz im Wendepunkt auf, so wie die Zeitschrift Decision im Buch The Turning Point (1942), und dieses zehn Jahre später in Der Wendepunkt, in dem das elfte Kapitel jetzt vom Entstehen der nämlichen Vorhaben berichtet.

„Daß wir uns einer Wegkreuzung nähern“: die im Präsens formulierte Beobachtung ist dem Eintrag zum 25. September nachträglich, für die stark überarbeitete deutsche Fassung, hinzugefügt worden. Wo ist dieses Präsens zu verorten? Handelt es sich um eine Art verspätetes Präsens, das ganz auf den geschichtlichen Augenblick bezogen ist, nur eben um ein paar Jahre zeitversetzt? Oder verweist es darauf, dass auch jetzt noch oder wieder, also zehn, zwanzig, sechzig oder fünfundachtzig Jahre später, Wegkreuzungen lauern, die, weil an ihnen decisions zu machen sind, eigentlich Wendepunkte sind? Dass Literatur „just now“ eine Antwort sein kann? Sie wäre das nicht als Bestandsgröße, sondern als dynamische, adaptionsfähige Konstellation, die dazu aufruft, „Stimmen um sich [zu] versammel[n]“. Die Allmählichkeit, mit der sich Entscheidungen anbahnen, die Gelassenheit des Lebens („Alles dauert lang, das Leben hat es nicht eilig.“) – sie bereiten vor, sie bremsen nicht. Daher die notorische Präsenz des Präsens: „But I don’t want to wait. Now is the time for this venture.“

What happens when stories are shaped by what is left unsaid? How do omissions, silences, and narrative absences construct identity and memory in literature? This workshop delves into the poetical and political functions of gaps in contemporary (auto)fiction, life writing, and graphic novels. Through keynote insights and interdisciplinary panels, we will explore how narratives engage with absence – whether as an artistic device, a trace of trauma, or a gap in history. Join us in uncovering the stories that emerge from what remains unsaid.

Information and Registration

The program is finalized, all panels have found their moderators, and we’re excited about the inspiring discussions that lie ahead. You can find the finalized programme and poster down below.

Unfortunately, we only have limited places for the workshop, which makes a prior registration mandatory. If you would like to join the workshop, please write to hanna.horn@uni-greifswald.de.

All workshop participants have the opportunity to attend the public reading with Shushan Avagyan. If you are only interested in the public reading, please also register with an e-mail to hanna.horn@uni-greifswald.de.

If you would like to participate in parts of the workshop via Zoom, please also write us. We will then get back to you as soon as possible with further information and a link.

By registering for the workshop, you agree that the event on 10-11 July 2025 will be streamed via Zoom, but not recorded. If you plan to attend on-site, please indicate whether you’re interested in the first / the second or both days of the workshop.
The public reading on 10 July will be streamed and recorded (without the Q&A part). The recording will then be published on the website of the Research Training Group “Baltic Peripeties”.

Workshop Programme

Organisation

Paula Friedericke Hartmann

Hanna Horn

Tim Senkbeil

International Joint Seminar, University of Tartu, Department of German Studies

20–24 October 2025

In the winter semester 2025/26, the Department of German Philology at the University of Greifswald will be offering a joint international seminar for advanced students (MA/LA) in cooperation with the Department of German Studies at the University of Tartu.

A block seminar week will take place in Tartu from 20 to 24 October 2025 (travel: 19/25 Oct).

Modules:
Special Seminar (Tartu)
Textualität, Vertiefungsmodul (Greifswald)

If you are interested in participating, please contact Dr. Sebastian Haselbeck (sebastian.haselbeck@uni-greifswald.de) and Dr. Alexander Waszynski (alexander.waszynski@uni-greifswald.de) by May 15.

General info

Objectives:
To bring together advanced students from two partner universities in Germany and Estonia. Subject-specific knowledge is advanced and methodological innovation is fostered by jointly evaluating complementary international research perspectives. Through a close reading of a key work of 19th-century realism, this seminar explores how literature negotiates an increasing global interconnectedness and its social repercussions in the smallest details of everyday life and thus opens up new spaces of perception.

Brief description of content
The seminar explores Theodor Fontane’s “Effi Briest” (1894/95), one of the most prominent German-language realist novels, with regard to its narrative and rhetorical techniques (e.g. elliptical narration, multi-perspectivity), focusing on the tension between the provincial settings central to the plot and their global interconnections (via the protagonists’ travels, global trade routes, intertextuality, etc.). A first approach to the topic will be made from the perspective of reception history in literature, film and online formats (e.g. Th. Mann, R.W. Fassbinder, H. Huntgeburth, J. Böhmermann). The seminar will be held in German. The text basis is the current Reclam edition (Ditzingen 2019, ed. P. Trilcke). Translations into English (Oxford 2015, trans. M. Mitchell) and Estonian (Tallinn 1980, trans. L. Riikoja) are provided.

In addition to the seminar programme, we will have a small cultural programme, including visits to the Estonian National Museum and the University of Tartu Museum.

From 2 to 11 May 2025, Greifswald will once again become a centre of Northern European culture with international appeal. During the renowned Nordischer Klang festival, numerous artists from Iceland, Sweden, Norway, Finland, Denmark, and Estonia are expected to present the cultural diversity of Northern Europe. Nordischer Klang is the largest annual cross-genre event in Germany, focussing on music, art and literature from Scandinavia, Finland and Estonia. Every year, up to 10,000 visitors attend the ten-day festival. One of the Nordic countries alternates annually as the patron country; Iceland will take on this role in 2025. While the focus of the festival is on music, the scholarly programme will not be neglected, with many illustrious guests expected to attend.

Under the direction of Professor Dr. Clemens Räthel (Greifswald) a conference on literary studies will take place at the Alfried Krupp Wissenschaftskolleg on Monday, 5 May from 10.00 a.m. This conference, titled Tove Janssons Mumins: Resilienz erzählen / resilient erzählen (narrating resilience / resilient narration) is open to the public and promises to be of interest to academics and Moomin fans alike. Together with scholars Hanna Dymel-Trzebiatowska (Gdansk), Miranda Geust (Åbo), Sirke Happonen (Helsinki), Mara Baumgart (Kiel) and Antonia- Louise Krause (Greifswald) we will explore how resilience is narrated and contextualised in Tove Jansson’s famous Moomin stories. Her supposedly children’s books invite us to read them with a focus on current events, as Moominvalley is by no means a paradise, but rather a place full of challenges. There will be a wide range of topics to discuss, from parties as a practice of resistance, to nature narratives and feminist aspects in the Moomin books, all the way to criticism of capitalism.

The challenge around the question of how a city can be made liveable for everyone was accepted by the travelling exhibition of the Royal Danish Embassy in Berlin, which shows 28 positive examples from Denmark. The exhibition will be on display at the Central University Library in Greifswald throughout the festival and will continue until 3 June, showing a range of examples of architecture and urban planning in Denmark while deliberately taking a look at projects outside the bigger cities. As a kaleidoscope of different projects, the exhibition aims to stimulate discussion: What actually makes a city worth living in, who are we building it for and who can and may participate?  There will be a panel discussion with German and Danish experts at the exhibition opening on 8 May.

Thematically, we continue with challenges: On 7.5. Nordischer Klang, invites you to a panel discussion with academics and artists about our ideas of a Northern European paradise, the changes in the face of climate change, and the topic of climate protection vs. environmental protection. We tend to idealise Northern Europe as a place with snowy landscapes, deserted forests and eternal coast. However, the inhospitality and the changes brought about by climate change pose major challenges. How intact is this nature really? This will be discussed by Guðný Guðmundsdóttir (Berlin), Pedro Gunnlaugur Garcia (Reykjavík), Kari Heimen (Alta), and Paul Kirschstein (Greifswald). The discussion will be moderated by Charlotte Steinert (Greifswald) and takes place at the Alfried Krupp Wissenschaftskolleg as well. There will also be an opportunity to accompany the Greifswald moor manager on a walk through the Steinbecker Vorstadt polder and learn interesting facts about the moors on the outskirts of the city as a place of biodiversity, recreation and climate adaptation.

All fans of traditional joik can look forward to a musicological lecture by singer, drummer and joik expert Kari Heimen on 8 May.  On 11 May, Dr Sabine Lindqvist will lead a tour of Greifswald’s past from the Pomeranian State Museum: from the founding of the city to the beginning of the Swedish period. From the monastery model to the executioner’s sword, through the tanners‘ quarter, from the founding of the university to the Thirty Years’ War. For language enthusiasts, former Icelandic lecturer Hartmut Mittelstädt will offer an entertaining look behind the scenes of the online Icelandic dictionary LEXIA on 6 May. He will present older, existing Icelandic-German dictionaries and talk about the history and development of LEXIA.

For those who would like a break from academics: the line-up of the 10-day festival offers musical enjoyment for every taste. For example, the band Northflip will be bringing Finnish folk to Greifswald, Anna Pauline and Irma Neumüller will delight us at Nordischer Klang’s famous Swedish Jazz Night, while Kari Heimen guarantees a powerful modern Joik concert. The festival will also be enriched by readings by Pedro Gunnlaugur Garcia, Jessica Schiefauer and Pajtim Statovic, as well as films, other exhibitions and a colourful children’s programme.   Tickets for the concerts can be purchased both on site at the Greifswald Information Centre on the market square and online via mvticket.de. Further information on the programme can be found on the festival’s website.

Viking Age treasure finds have fascinated people for centuries. Even today, artefacts from the Viking Age (c. 800–1100) continue to surface in the Baltic Sea region, just as they did in the past. In 1834, a farm worker in south-eastern Norway stumbled upon the Hoen Hoard, and between 1872 and 1874, the island of Hiddensee revealed 16 pieces of exquisite gold jewellery crafted around the year 1000 that most likely belonged to Danish royalty. But these discoveries did not only enrich museums – they ignited multifaceted processes of appropriation: Who gets to keep the ‘Viking gold’? Where will it be shown? Who identifies with this cultural heritage? And how do these processes change over time?

The online exhibition Viking Gold. Treasure Politics since 1800 (www.vikinggold.org) delves deep into these questions, exploring how cultural heritage can both unite and divide. To learn more, we spoke with co-curator Charlotte Wenke, doctoral researcher in the Interdisciplinary Centre for Baltic Sea Region Research (IFZO) at the University of Greifswald and an associated member of the IRTG “Baltic Peripeties”.

Dear Charlotte, thank you for sharing some insights into Viking Gold! You co-curated the exhibition with Professor Isabelle Dolezalek while also pursuing doctoral research on gold treasures as objects of identification in the Baltic Sea Region. Could you tell us more about your transition from art historian to curator? Has the collaboration with museum professionals influenced your academic approach?

Thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to present our exhibition in this interview! It was indeed quite a new experience for me to be a curator, even though I do not think of it as a transition, rather as an addition to my skills as an art historian. I think some of the most valuable experiences, which were also great fun, were to find out how to adapt academic knowledge to the desires of an interested public. As academics, we are usually producing incredibly long texts with few images (maybe a few more in the field of art history). Here, we had to condense what we wanted to say to a minimum and make it visually attractive at the same time. So together with our fantastic creative colleagues at the exhibition lab museeon in Berlin, we had several sessions drawing, clipping, highlighting, arranging and re-arranging our ideas with a lot of colourful pencils, papers, stickers and magnets. Apart from creative inspirations for my own working processes on the PhD thesis, I think being forced to condense what I found in the archival material into a few precise sentences also helped me to think more clearly about what I want to say in the different parts of my thesis.

The exhibition highlights two remarkable Viking gold finds: the Hoen Hoard and the Hiddensee Hoard. Originally prized as luxurious jewellery in the Viking Age, these treasures gained new significance as ‘cultural heritage’ following their rediscovery in the 19th century. They have been displayed in national museums, used for propaganda in National Socialist Germany and the German Democratic Republic, and replicated for personal or political expression. How did you trace the treasures’ complex histories? Were there any findings that particularly surprised or challenged your initial expectations?

In my work for both the exhibition and my thesis, my findings are based on a careful investigation of photographic and written source material concerning the reception of the treasure finds after they were unearthed in 1834 (Hoen) and 1872–74 (Hiddensee). These materials are mostly kept in the archives of the museums in Oslo and Stralsund, which acquired the finds shortly after they were discovered and have kept them in their care since. For my thesis, I have been looking for documentation on their acquisition, their classification, their exhibition, their replication and their circulation to other museums. I want to find out how they were used to construct ideas of cultural identity and heritage, and how the museum as institution contributes to this.

For the exhibition, we chose specific aspects of my findings and turned them into seven chapters. One shows, for example, that the same groups of objects can be perceived as ‘belonging’ to different social groups: to a nation, a region or even Europe or the world, sometimes all at once. I think my expectations have not been challenged too much so far, but I found the political impact on the exhibition of Viking Age gold striking. For example, parts of the Hoen hoard were displayed in an exhibition illustrating cultural connections between Norway and the Soviet Union on the occasion of Nikita Khrushchev’s visit to Oslo in 1964 – and in the same year the replica of a Viking Age gold spur from Norway was displayed in the USA. Viking Age gold treasures were used to represent historic contacts with both the SU and the US during the Cold War!

From their Viking origins to modern museum displays, the Hoen and Hiddensee Hoards have been ascribed different meanings over time. Did you identify any pivotal turning points – or peripeties – in how they were perceived or utilised?

Yes, definitely. After 1945, we see, for example, that the transcultural character of the various components of the Hoen hoard is emphasised much more than before the Second World War. This treasure is the biggest preserved gold hoard from the Viking Age and contains, amongst others, coins from the Eastern Mediterranean that were reworked as pendants in Scandinavia, a Frankish strap-distributor reworked as a brooch, pendants of Byzantine origin, and even a carved gemstone from the late antique Mediterranean, also reworked as a pendant. The widespread provenances of the different objects have already been pointed out in the first publication on it that came out in 1835, only five months after its discovery. However, after 1945 the transcultural character of the hoard seems to have made it suitable for the illustration of a shared European past, which was at the heart of European cultural policies after the war. In 1954, it was part of an exhibition in Brussels and Paris that was supposed to popularise Norwegian art in Europe and to contribute to international understanding during the Cold War. In 1992, it was shown in an exhibition by the European Council on the integration of ‘the North’ into a European cultural sphere, and still today it is displayed as a testimony to the transcultural entanglements of the Viking Age. (Check the chapter “to exhibit” of our exhibition for more!)

In what ways have these treasures contributed to shaping regional and national identities in the Baltic Sea Region?

I would say that the Hoen treasure needs to be seen in the context of the impact that the Viking Age had on Scandinavian national identities: In the second half of the 19^th century, historians in Denmark, Norway and Sweden adopted the term ‘Viking Age’ in their national histories as the transition period between Pagan and Christian times. Due to the recorded activities of Viking Age Scandinavians outside their homelands, this period was perceived to be the time when these countries became part of (Western) history and ‘civilisation’, as one would have called it in the 1800s. Material culture of the Viking Age, like the Hoen treasure, had an important status as testimony of this period, as there are almost no written sources from Scandinavia from that time. Museums again were among the most important communicators of the newly written national histories, as they were in custody of the material culture. So, from 1904 onwards, the Norwegian collection of antiquities in Christiania (today’s Oslo) had a whole room dedicated to the Viking Age, whose centrepiece was a customised display case presenting the Hoen treasure in all its magnificence. We can imagine that Norwegian visitors to the collection looked at the precious gold objects as one of the prime products of ‘their’ national history.

It is probably no big surprise that treasure finds from the Viking Age have been perceived as national heritage in Scandinavia, but also the Hiddensee treasure has been presented as part of a national – German – history. Both in 1880 and 1936 it was displayed in big exhibitions with a national focus, and even in the GDR, postage stamps depicted one of the treasure’s pendants, which thus travelled the world as East German archaeological heritage. However, in contrast to most of the Scandinavian gold finds, the Hiddensee treasure became part of the collection of a regional museum instead of a national one. This also led to a growing popularity of it within the region of Western Pomerania, where Hiddensee is located. To this day, goldsmiths in the region sell miniature replicas of the treasure’s components as jewellery, and you can find everything from tea cups to biscuit cutters featuring its motives. Both today and 150 years ago, women wore replicas of it to show their connection to the region. Here we can see that this particular treasure find has become important for people’s everyday lives beyond the walls of the museum that keeps it. (Check the chapters “to wear” and “to claim” of our exhibition for more information about that!)

An online exhibition undoubtedly comes with certain challenges. Did you face any difficulties in presenting these objects and their histories digitally? Conversely, did the virtual format also offer new possibilities, for example in reaching international audiences?

As with every digital representation of artefacts, it is of course a pity that you do not get to see the original pendants, rings and brooches – their size, their reverse sides and their gleaming surfaces, which are so specific to gold. On the other hand, the digital reproductions of the treasures travel the world, thanks to the internet. We could indeed see that we were able to reach international audiences. However, this is not happening on its own. You need to advertise even for a digital exhibition, if you want people to visit it. The digital format made it also possible to present the histories of the treasures in an interactive way, for example as a flow chart or rotating picture galleries. Feel free to try all of these on your own devices or in the analogue version of our exhibition, which is touring the Baltic Sea region right now – We will happily receive any kind of feedback!

Charlotte, many thanks for these captivating glimpses behind the scenes. Wishing you continued success with Viking Gold and your ongoing research!

Call for Papers – Workshop
“Exploring Narrative Gaps in Literature: Identity, Memory, and the Absent”

IRTG Baltic Peripeties, University of Greifswald, 10 and 11 July, 2025

Download the Call for Papers as PDF.

What is missing from a narrative can be just as revealing as what is included. This specially applies to literature, where a story is shaped not only by what is present, but also by what is deliberately omitted or left unspoken. An author might choose to omit details, whether to conceal parts of a story or to emphasize others through what is left unsaid, shaping the storytelling in the process. It is also possible that the narrator’s memory is incomplete because of medical conditions, (intergenerational) trauma, or suppression. Both the inability to remember and remembering “too much“ might  be felt as hurtful.

The concept of mimesis of remembering (Michael Basseler, Dorothee Birke) is highly relevant for identifying memory-related gaps. Building on Gérard Genette’s work on temporal structures as well as the theorization of unreliable narratives, they conclude that the process of remembering is always aesthetically constructed. Examples of this can be found in literary texts like Anne Rabe’s Die Möglichkeit von Glück (2023) and Bianca Schaalburg’s graphic novel Der Duft der Kiefern (2021). They explore remembrance as both a theme and as an aesthetic form. Rabe’s protagonist experiences memory gaps and questions her grandfather’s past, reflecting on fragmented recollections. Schaalburg delves into her family’s Second World War history, piecing together memories and facts. Both works artistically contribute to a culture of remembrance by depicting history as reconstructed through fragile and selective memories.

An interesting case for contemporary literature studies is analyzing the tension between autofictional genre and gaps. Considering the fragmented nature of memory and identity, authors working in the autofictional genre often do not aim to dispose of these gaps. Instead, traumatic gaps of memory and remembering are often used for self-narration. For instance, authors may narrativize their own search for clues, hoping to shed light on what remains obscured and to answer lingering questions.

Narratives of the self, changing throughout time, are dependent on, or conditioned by, various factors, some of which include cultural, interpersonal, and linguistic influences (Jerome Bruner). In order to “make a life livable” (Judith Butler), one sometimes has to adjust one’s self-narrative(s) to a particular situation. Along with changes in the social environment, the surroundings and accessible objects, there are also certain transformations in the way(s) people use them to tell their life stories and narrate memories. Sherry Turkle’s theory of evocative objects, as “things we think with” and “companions to our emotional lives or as provocations to thought”, allows us to understand how narrated selves are partly constituted by the network(s) they form with such objects (Richard Heersmink), and what kinds of gaps these distributed self views form and resolve.

The workshop aims to encourage a theoretical and methodological examination of authorial creation of narrative gaps in contemporary (auto)fictional literature. We welcome original proposals that focus on the aesthetic construction of gaps in (graphic) novels, contemporary narrative texts of different genres, and life writing. Furthermore, we seek to explore how literary scholars can more effectively identify and analyze these gaps in narratives and whether it is possible to approach this analysis within a consistent methodological framework.

Possible questions might include, but are not limited to:

• What exactly constitutes a gap in literature and which methodological framework can be used to identify gaps in literature?
• What aesthetic techniques and narrative strategies do contemporary authors use to reveal gaps in identity and memory?
• How do gaps fragment and affect the temporal structures in literary texts? In which ways is the artistic impact supported by the temporal structure of a text?
• What gaps emerge in identity and memory when remembering and narrating one’s life in a changed environment?
• What is the role of new materialist or posthuman self-narration in individual remembering, identity construction practices, and life writing? What role do objects play in narrating the self, and how can these artifactual-personal networks be analyzed methodologically?
• Are there significant differences in the gaps in pre-digital and digital literature? How should they be analyzed? And what role do social media platforms play in the process of creating and resolving gaps, in authorial life writing online?

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Submission guidelines: The workshop is organized by Paula Friedericke Hartmann, Hanna Horn and Tim Senkbeil, International Research Training Group (DFG) Baltic Peripeties. Narratives of Reformations, Revolutions and Catastrophes, and will be held at the University of Greifswald on 10 and 11 July, 2025. The working languages will be English and German.

To apply, please submit the following in a single document (one PDF):
an abstract (English or German) of 300 to 500 words, your contact details (name, email, affiliation), and a short bio (up to 150 words) to Hanna Horn at hanna.horn@uni-greifswald.de by 14 January, 2025. In the subject line, please specify “Workshop Gaps in Literature“.

Applicants will be notified regarding the acceptance of their contribution in February 2025.

Other practicalities:

Participants whose proposals are accepted will be asked to submit a draft paper (3–5 pages, excluding bibliography) by 1 June, 2025 for distribution among all other participants prior to the workshop. The drafts will serve as the basis for a 30-minute presentation (in addition to 15 minutes of discussion) at the workshop. We aim to publish the revised and extended versions of these papers (20–30 pages) for inclusion in an edited volume or special issue with an internationally recognized publisher.

The organizers will reimburse travel expenses within reasonable means and arrange accommodation for all speakers. We kindly ask for you to coordinate your travel plans with us in advance. If you have any specific (accessibility) requirements, please let us know and we will do our best to accommodate such requests. For further information on the workshop, travel, or accommodation, please contact Paula Friedericke Hartmann at paula.hartmann@uni-greifswald.de.

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Bibliography:

Basseler, Michael and Dorothee Birke. “Mimesis des Erinnerns,“ in Gedächtniskonzepte der Literaturwissenschaft: Theoretische Grundlegung und Anwendungsperspektiven, ed. Astrid Erll and Ansgar Nünning, Berlin: de Gruyter, 2005, 123-148.

Bruner, Jerome. “Life as Narrative,” Social Research 54,1 (1987): 11–32.

Butler, Judith. Giving an Account of Oneself. New York: Fordham University Press, 2005.

Genette, Gérard. Die Erzählung. München: Wilhelm Fink, 1994.

Heersmink, Richard. “The Narrative Self, Distributed Memory, and Evocative Objects,” Philosophical Studies: An International Journal for Philosophy in the Analytic Tradition, 175(8), (2018): 1829–1849.

Turkle, Sherry, ed. Evocative Objects: Things We Think With. Cambridge: The MIT Press, 2007.