The Singing Revolution

Imagine a small country, first overrun by the Soviets,  then invaded by the Nazis, then enslaved by the Soviets again. A small country which took great pride in its music. Imagine 30,000 singers, as one voice, singing a patriotic song in Estonian, which their Soviet masters failed to repress because they didn’t understand the language.  Imagine a successful revolution without one gun fired.

Here is the story that Jim Tusty had to tell.  This is the story of The Singing Revolution.

I spoke with Jim Tusty who, with his wife Maureen, has made this astonishing documentary.

Clare Elfman: First of all, explain what you mean by the “Singing Revolution.”

Jim Tusty: The Singing Revolution was the non-violent path the Estonians resolutely took to free themselves from Soviet occupation. It’s an analogy to the story of David beating Goliath, but without using the slingshot.

CE: What happened to Estonia during WWII?

JT: Picture a small country about 40 miles south of Finland across the Baltic Sea. Back in 1939, Hitler and Stalin signed a mutual assistance agreement called the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact which divided Europe between Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, but it had a secret clause. No one in Europe knew how Europe was actually divided, and Estonia was ceded to the Soviets by Hitler. In 1940, the Soviets forcibly occupied Estonia with 80,000 troops, equivalent to one soldier for every 12 Estonians — a country which had a population smaller than Brooklyn. A year later, Hitler betrayed Stalin and invaded all of the Soviet occupation, including Estonia. For 23 years, Estonians suffered under the Nazis and then the war turned. Nazis left Estonia. In 1944, the Russians returned. What nobody really knew was the Moscow spin…that the Soviets were chasing out the Nazis. The truth is that when the Red Army entered Tallinn, the Estonian flag was flying, there was a sitting government in place, and there was not a German soldier left in the city. The Red army machine-gunned down the flag and replaced it with the hammer and sickle. They arrested the entire sitting government and put their own people in power.

CE: How was music important to the enslaved Estonians?

JT: Music is to Estonia what baseball is to America. It’s a national pastime. Since 1869, Estonians have held massive song festivals — 30,000 singers  onstage, and not any 30,000. All had to audition. The best 30,000 singers. The event that was the first protest under Soviet occupation was held in 1947. The Soviets had used the festival to sing the praises of Communism, a singing celebration to Lenin and Marx. But the Estonians slipped one in. They created a song written to a 100-year-old national poem. Mu Isamaa on minu arm. Land of my fathers, land that I love. The poem had meaning to every Estonian but had no meaning to the Soviet censors, so they allowed the song to be sung, not realizing that they had just approved the new national anthem. It is magic to be in an Estonian crowd when that song is sung,  especially when there are older people in that crowd who had memories of those Soviet years. It was as if half of Yankee Stadium during the World Series were singing in perfect harmony.

CE: I’ve seen the film and I was so astonished, touched, and moved hearing those voices not only singing but holding hand to hand in one perfect unity and one perfect harmony. How did you happen to get involved with this project?

JT: My father was born in Estonia. I was the only kid in school who knew Estonian history.  My father had embraced his new homeland, but I had heard stories of Estonia all my life. And my wife Maureen (my co-producer) and I had decided to go to Estonia as tourists in 1997. In a small pizza shop, we met a childhood friend, Peter Manning, who was an exchange professor there to teach skills to Estonian businessmen. Wow — that was so great. Could we do that? Teach at that university? Peter introduced us and we were taken on to teach filmmaking. It was an English-speaking school. I had a degree in film but never theatrical. My company, Mountain View, does commercials — corporate image work. So there we were teaching filmmaking to Estonians, and we began to hear stories about the “singing revolution.” Over two or three months, we began to ask for stories — anyone who knew or remembered. We called home to our American friends — they had never heard the story. Neither did our European friends. It was an amazing story of great courage that the world needed to hear. And who would tell it, if not us?

CE: What about financing? How did you pull this off?

JT: Maureen and I promised ourselves that, after 2001, we would make a theatrical film, but life took over and it slipped by, and we knew that the Festival was only held every five years — it was going to happen in July of 2004, and if we didn’t do it then, we’d have to wait until 2009. So we did what we would not recommend to any other filmmaker. We started the film on zero money, shot a promo trailer, spent a few weeks developing an outline, fund-raising package, and we went to look for contributors. By accident, we stumbled on two critical supporters. We approached the Estonian American community in New York City, presented the idea: Here’s the film we want to make, who will support us? We were approached by 20 to 30 people. We met Olga Kistler, who had fled Estonia in 1944 to Seattle where she lives, and we gave her what was little more of an idea on the back of an envelope. Then a venture capitalist, Steve Jurvetson, whose parents had both fled Estonia, became interested. Since then, 100 people have contributed money to the project — thousands on the high end. On the low end, even a teenager who was part Estonian gave us 25 dollars. We were able to cover 75 to 80%. We financed the rest.

CE: How did you manage the distribution?

JT: The reaction from commercial distributors was not great. “Fascinating,” they said — great film, but not commercial. But we believed passionately. We believed that 30,000 singers and the epic nature of the story deserved nothing less than the big screen. We had a theatrical tour that was a great success. The film shown in over 120 cities, including Toronto.

CE: For filmmakers who want to go this same route, how actually did you market the film on a low budget?

JT: On the web. We advertised that if 1,000 people would sign up with us on the web, we would bring the film to their city.  The key was this: People signed their zip code and e-mail address so that in any interested city, we had at least 1,000 in the audience. Committed people put up flyers for us. We identified our support groups: Baltics, choir and choral singers, non-violent activists, and free-market supporters. Estonia is free-market. Maureen and I flew to 25 cities to mobilize our supporters. In spring of 2008, were were the number-one independent documentary, 400,000 box office — not big by Hollywood standards, but significant by independent film standards. All grass roots. All done on the web.

CE: So there are big changes in favor of young filmmakers.

JT: Something is happening to the theatrical industry. Artists have gained more influence over distribution.

CE: Jim, this is an amazing film. To see how the Estonians struggled to survive, and many did not; to see that first great gathering of singers emboldened by the power of song suddenly rise together as one voice, how they overturned the great and terrible power of the Soviets with not one single shot but only with the awesome power of their singing…it inspires and gives such a feeling of hope in these cynical and negative times. I think we’re ready for inspiration and hope.

Jim Tusty is  man with a vision. He and his wife have produced a powerful film. A bit of sad, true history and the awesome power of song to defeat oppression.

The Collector’s Edition DVD is on sale officially through The Singing Revolution website. The regular DVD does go on sale on Amazon.com this February.