The city boasts a remarkable cultural heritage and a stellar art museum. Riga's State Museum of Fine Art alone gives not only a fascinating insight into the development of Latvian art, but also a healthy representation of Russian artists whose works, liberally distributed under Soviet rule, remain in Latvia.
The museum is housed in an imposing building on Valdemara Street, a pleasant walk across the city's parks from both the Old Town and the railway station. It was built between 1903 and 1905 by the architect Wilhelm Neumann to house the City Museum of Riga and the Riga Society to Promote Art. It now contains the country's main collection of Latvian art up to 1945, works by the German Baltic population, and the largest collection of Russian art in the Baltic states.
The collection of Latvian art of the 19th and early 20th centuries is prominently displayed at the top of the monumental staircase on the second floor. One of the country's favorite artists, the landscape painter Vilhelms Purvitis (1872-1945), is particularly successful in demonstrating a specific Latvian artistic identity. His works span an impressive range of style and subject matter, from bleak winter landscapes in somber, February grays to vibrant scenes of ports and pavements in bright, bold, Fauvist colors. While some bring to mind his Russian contemporaries such as Levitan, and others suggest a Danish affinity, none of Purvitis' works can be conclusively aligned with either country.
Janis Rozentals (1866-1916) proves equally difficult to classify. One only slowly comprehends that the same artist produced the elegiac mood of "Portrait of a Woman in White" (1902), the uneasy, mustached stare of the "Self Portrait" (1900), or the decorative symbolism characteristic of the turn of the century. In Purvitis and Rozentals alone, Latvia can lay claim to artists deserving international standing.
The ground floor of the museum is devoted primarily to German Baltic and Russian art from the 18th century to World War II. Remarkably, among the early works, paintings by women artists stand out. The lack of significant female painters in traditional Western art history has inspired a book titled "Why Are There No Great Women Artists?" Here, however, women artists seem to have flourished.
The first hall of the display, for example, includes an inimitable "Self Portrait" (1820s) by Gertrude Elizabeth Reuther (1788-1845). The artist's cropped, curly hair and proud features convey a headstrong attitude which may, indeed, have been necessary to succeed in such a male-dominated profession. The simple, beautifully cut black dress and the absence of any jewelry ensure that nothing detracts from the character of the sitter. This was a woman who took her profession seriously.
Thirty years later another woman, Ottilie von Bolschwing, produced an equally compelling "Self Portrait" (1852). Instead of Reuther's quiet assurance, here we see a young, timid girl whose perfect center parting provides a focal point to the work. Only the head, collar and brooch are illuminated, with the rest of the figure consumed by the black background.
The effect is superb, and one longs to see later works by an artist who produced such an enigmatic, technically flawless painting so early in her career. She may not have lived to paint much more, however, for her works are only dated "19th century."
The final hall in the first enfilade of rooms suddenly gives way to faces familiar to regular visitors to the Russian Museum or the Tretyakov Gallery. There are portraits by Karl Bryullov, called "The Great Karl" in his day on the strength of his most famous work, "The Last Day of Pompeii."
There are also trademark peasant paintings by Vasily Perov, two charming studies by the great Russian realist Ilya Repin, and four seascapes by an artist now commanding the highest prices at Sotheby's auctions in London, Ivan Aivazovsky.
Most intriguing of all the Russian works, however, is a famous painting by Grigory Myasoyedov called "Greeting of the Newlyweds in the Landlord's Mansion House."
On the right, a voluptuous woman in traditional peasant dress plants a kiss firmly on the lips of a rather startled, open-eyed young man. The casual viewer could deduce that this was the happy couple. However, on the left, a young man urgently whispers behind a book to the bride, who stands demurely in lacy white. How smooth, one wonders, will the course of this particular marriage be?
The return enfilade of rooms is devoted to Russian artists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Landscapes by Ivan Shishkin and Isaak Levitan jostle for space with a series of Impressionist paintings by Konstantin Korovin, while two majestic peasants in Filipp Malyavin's "Women" (1925) survey the scene with their unique, almost imperial, amusement. Particularly endearing is "The Change of Guard" (1903) by Alexandre Benois. The immaculate regularity of the ceremony has been broken by two soldiers whose hats have blown off and are scuttling in the wind across a snowy parade ground. One empathizes with their crashing loss of dignity.
These paintings are not secondary works by famous names, but often superb examples of specific stages in some of Russia's most important artistic careers.
Latvia's State Museum of Fine Art is no insignificant provincial gallery, but a source both of comforting familiarity and arresting novelty.
The State Museum of Fine Art, 10a K. Valdemara Street. Open Wednesday to Monday 11 a.m. to 5 p.m., closed Tuesday.
A Message from The Moscow Times:
Dear readers,
We are facing unprecedented challenges. Russia's Prosecutor General's Office has designated The Moscow Times as an "undesirable" organization, criminalizing our work and putting our staff at risk of prosecution. This follows our earlier unjust labeling as a "foreign agent."
These actions are direct attempts to silence independent journalism in Russia. The authorities claim our work "discredits the decisions of the Russian leadership." We see things differently: we strive to provide accurate, unbiased reporting on Russia.
We, the journalists of The Moscow Times, refuse to be silenced. But to continue our work, we need your help.
Your support, no matter how small, makes a world of difference. If you can, please support us monthly starting from just $2. It's quick to set up, and every contribution makes a significant impact.
By supporting The Moscow Times, you're defending open, independent journalism in the face of repression. Thank you for standing with us.

Remind me later.