City Architect Challenged with Planning Strategy in Centuries Old Capital

  TALLINN, Estonia – Seven days on the job as this capital city’s architect and Andro Mänd's mind was spinning.

  We had arranged to meet in his office at 3 p.m. I arrived early to scout for a location to take his photo in front of the city government building in Tallinn’s Old Town. Soon after, I noticed a youthful, slightly built man with brown, wavy hair bounding up the building steps with his cell phone attached to his right ear.

  From photos I had seen, I knew it was Andro.

  He paused at the top of the steps to finish his conversation.   When he stopped, I quicky introduced myself.

  “Oh, hello,” he said, somewhat out of breath. “I have to run up to my office for a few minutes. Wait here and when I return, we’ll take a tour.”

  And with that he was gone. A few minutes became 15. I didn’t mind. I could tell Andro and I would get along just fine.

Old Tallinn

  We left Andro’s building and headed across Old Tallinn’s Freedom Square into the heart of one of Europe’s finest medieval towns. The cobblestone streets, colorful buildings, ancient church steeples, and bustling retail shops, cafes and restaurants housed in centuries-old structures felt like a real-life fairy tale. Andro provided the commentary.

  Tallin was laid out in the 13th century as part of a network of Germanic market towns stretching across central and western Europe. The majority of its structures date from its beginning through the 16th century. So it’s as old as it looks, and beautifully preserved.

  We stopped in front of a yellowish, four-story building that once could have been a merchant’s home. Andro said it was one of the entrances into Tallinn’s City Theater complex consisting of 16 buildings from the 1300s.

  We visited a few rooms that offered a remarkable glimpse into the past: original ceiling beams, stone floors and doorways meticulously preserved. Yet they were seamlessly blended with modern stairways, lighting fixtures and flat screen monitors.   These days the theater’s ancillary rooms serve as reception, meeting and dining areas.

  The theater, comprising most of the space, buzzed with activity. It had been closed for renovations since 2021, and construction workers were busy with the finishing touches to meet a completion date at year’s end.

  We walked out of the building into a large courtyard with terraced seating at one end – an amphitheater for outdoor performances. Our tour complete, we sat in the stands and Andro explained his personal connection to the project.

  “I was involved in the early renovation design process, so it has a special meaning for me,” he said.

A Multifaceted Career

  Andro was born during the final years of this Baltic nation’s Communist rule by the Soviet Union. As a youth he attended art school to further his interest in painting. At 16, and free to choose a career path his parents never dreamed of, he decided to pursue architecture. He completed his undergraduate work in Germany before returning to Estonia for his master’s degree.   Along the way, in 2004, he spent a year in the U.S. at Virginia Tech University.

  “It was the best year of my life,” Andro said.

  The highlight of his private sector career had been his design work on new schools for each of the country’s 15 districts. The government had decided to demolish all of the outdated and impractical Soviet-designed buildings. That kept him busy.

  As did his work with the Estonian Association of Architects. In 2020, he became the association’s president, a fulltime position. Then, fate intervened.

  Since 1806 Tallinn had always employed a city architect. The tradition ended in 2019 when the then-government decided to eliminate the position. As part of his mission with the association, Andro tried to persuade city officials tried to rescind the decision. It was a full-press effort.

  “We were the only city in the region without a city architect,” he said. “We had many meetings with government officials. The media got involved as well.”

  It took all of Andro’s four years at the architects’ association to succeed. When his term ended last May, it coincided with the city opening the application process for a new architect. He applied for the job. And was hired.

  “I know it sounds like it was rigged,” he said, before I could ask. “But that was not the case. I’m certain the hiring process was fair. I had been quite critical of the city government when we were pushing for them to restore the position. We did not share the same opinion. So, I was surprised when they hired me.”

  For Andro, the timing was ideal. He, his partner of 16 years and their two children took an extended summer vacation. When he returned, he reported to City Hall.

  That was a week ago. But, already, it felt like a lifetime.

A Long Agenda

  Andro has had little sleep the past seven days.

  “I’m drowning,” he said. “Since I’m new, all I’m doing is going from meeting to meeting trying to see the overall picture of what’s going on. What’s important. What’s not.”

  One fact has emerged: “We have big problems to address.”

For instance, like many popular tourist destinations in Europe and the U.S., apartment owners in Tallinn’s Old Town have turned their residences into short-term rentals and now live elsewhere in the city. The trend has reduced Old Town’s population to what it was 300 years ago. During the long winter months, when the tourists stop coming and cruise ships disappear, the old city feels abandoned.

  “Not only are these people not living in Old Town anymore, they go elsewhere to shop, to bars and to restaurants,” Andro said.   “So, for instance, all the grocery stores here are now closed.”

  Barcelona, Spain became one of the first cities to enact legislation banning short term rentals. Others, New York and San Francisco among them, have followed.

  “I think we’ll do something here as we have to control it,” Andro said. “We need to get real residents living in Old Town again.”

  Another, broader issue confronting all of Tallinn and its 440,000 residents is what Andro calls economic segregation.

  “Middle - and low-income families can’t afford to live in the city center or seaside anymore as wealthy people, mostly from the IT sector, have moved in and driven up the prices,” he said.

  As for a solution, he points to neighboring Helsinki, Finland, 54 miles across the Baltic Sea. There, the government and the private sector have formed a partnership of sorts. Now, city center apartment buildings are required to have a number of fixed-rent units.

  “You can’t have one building for poor people,” Andro said. “It always should be mixed income.”

  The challenge in Tallinn is selling government on the concept of public-private partnerships.

  “The feeling here is everything should be privatized. Government should not intervene,” he said, a concept he does not agree with.

  In other words, Andro has another battle to wage with Tallinn officials. But now he’s now on the same team.

The Future is Now

  Our discussion was winding down. Andro had more meetings to attend. At 43, he retains his boyish look. On closer inspection, crow’s feet and folds of flesh frame his blue-gray eyes.

  Tallinn is not without its success stories. A number of central city neighborhoods have developed what Andro calls micro street life environments. Small parks, playgrounds, sidewalk benches, bicycle lanes, cafes and restaurants are all designed to coax residents out of their isolation in high-rise apartments and into the streets.

  Andro believes adopting this concept in Old Town would be another way to get locals to return.

  The renovated city theater we visited and a new art museum are examples of larger-scale, long overdue projects.  Andro would love for Tallinn to mimic progressive European cities such as Copenhagen and Berlin. But Soviet rule here didn’t end until 1991, so the city got a late start.

  “Tallinn is still 50 years behind,” he said. “We are trying to fill this gap.”

  A morning phone meeting involved one of Andro’s pet projects.   The topic: a massive, sea front Soviet-era building called Linnahall. The multi-purpose structure, constructed for the Moscow Olympics in 1980 – Tallinn hosted the Games’ sailing events – has been closed since 2009. A number of city officials want to tear it down. Andro feels otherwise.

  “People don’t understand the value of it because it’s in really bad shape,” he said. “We should keep the building and find uses for it. We could never afford to build something like that again.”

  He’s hopeful he’ll win this one.

  Andro has a team of 11 architects working under him. He reflected on how things have changed from the days of the original city architects.

  “They designed houses and city buildings. We’re more into planning. At the moment, we are part of a process of figuring out where the city will be in 20 to 30 years.”

  As an architect, Andro has a vision of his own. His goal is for his group to leave a viable blueprint of what Tallinn can become.

  “Of course, we won’t see the results in my time. Maybe the saddest thing is even if we do a good job no one will notice it.”

Editor’s note: Third in a series from a reporting trip to Estonia August 7-10, 2024

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Reported and written by: George J. Tanber

Edited by: Michael Gordon

Photo editor: David Kozy