an enchanted place in the center of Riga

Could the architect imagine that seven years later he would become a victim of the Red Terror, and his building would become a gloomy symbol. They joked that this was the tallest building in Riga – you might see Kolyma.

Take out and put 847 thousand

Since the first Bolshevization of Latvia in 1919, the building was seized by the special services – first the security officers of the Stuchka regime committed atrocities here, then the state bodies of the First Republic practiced moderate repressions. The rampant terror returned in 1940, then the Nazis actively participated, and then from 1944 to 1991 – once more the Soviet state security agencies. But even in independent Latvia, the building had to bear the heavy load – the police department of the Ministry of Internal Affairs moved here, using the underground prison as a high-security detention center for especially important prisoners.

The state joint-stock company Valsts nekustamie īpašumi (VNI) carried out an examination of the building, which is now partially used by the Museum of Occupation, and came to the conclusion:

* it is necessary to restore the ceiling of the patio (300 thousand euros);

* it is necessary to dismantle the old and install a new fire alarm and fire extinguishing system (305 thousand);

* it is necessary to remove the unused part of the electrical wiring (85 thousand);

* it is necessary to seal the structures (10 thousand).

Together with 21% VAT this will amount to 847 thousand.

Minister of Culture Agnese Logina (Progressive) made this request to the government. After all, we are talking regarding “an irrefutable message regarding the tragic events of the history of Latvia, which cannot be forgotten and which need to be reminded to everyone of the evil and destruction committed by the totalitarian regime.”

Meanwhile, the destruction continues: the State Bureau of Construction Control and the State Fire Fighting and Rescue Service recorded the deplorable condition of the facility on May 28, 2021. It will be a pity if something happens to the historical object, because many memories are associated with it. In the case of your author, it’s more of a tragicomic sort.



Before the First World War. The short existence of the building as a purely civil apartment building.

From personal visit experience

One spring day in 1989, that is, exactly 35 years ago, I opened the frosted glass door on the corner of Lenin and Engels streets, handing the employee with cornflower-blue shoulder straps a note scrawled with a fountain pen and found the day before in the mailbox.

I don’t remember whether they escorted me to the office in the bay window, which overlooked a busy corner, or whether I walked there on my own. But I spent only the next three hours in the company of Comrade Neyland, an investigator of the KGB of the LSSR for particularly important cases. Leningrad State Security opened a criminal case under Article 70 “Anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda” once morest Artem Yuryevich Gadasik, publisher of the typewritten magazine “Democratic Opposition”. And I – a while ago – sent a couple of letters to St. Petersburg with a story regarding the then agenda in Latvia. They were found during a search.

Neiland made a forced apology, saying that it was not our initiative, we were only fulfilling the request of our colleagues. He smoked Cosmos himself and treated me to it too. However, he was extremely corrosive. The protocol drawn up for Leningrad was immediately printed on coated paper – “from my words it was written down correctly.” The certificate issued by the officer for the institute was not out of place – I proudly showed it to the physical education department, whose classes I had to miss that day. And the stern coach, it seemed to me, shuddered: “I hope it’s nothing serious?”

Then, a couple of years later, as a full-time journalist, I had the opportunity to attend one of the few press conferences in the committee. She was already walking into the meeting room on the first floor. And then I asked the deputy chairman, Major General Trubinsh, who was conducting the briefing, whether it is possible to familiarize himself with his own file in the manner of publicity? “We don’t store it, it’s in a paper shredder,” the boss waved him off.

And it’s true – as it has already become clear today, in 1990 the overwhelming amount of operational materials of the security officers was destroyed. A huge layer of history has disappeared. However, the information on magnetic media—reels of computer film—was preserved. The database “Delta Latvia” is now stored in the archives on Skandu Street, and anyone interested can read it. I also found three pages regarding myself there…

Well, the third time I came to the Corner House was already in the status of a museum. In the former canteen, on the side of Brivibas Street, part of the interior of a kind of institutional catering has been preserved. On the walls there is a photographic exhibition of subjects and objects of Soviet state security activities. There are few artifacts – there is no comparison with the luxurious Berlin Stasi Museum, MGB of the GDR. In all likelihood, the physical tools of the daily work of security officers entered the service of Latvian authorities in the early 1990s and were completely depreciated during service.

But the Latvian museum displays a room full of bullet holes. The place is very close to where the security officers ate. In post-Stalin times it was not used. According to Latvian historians, death sentences were carried out here, following which the corpses of those executed were taken out through the courtyard on a truck. This version is supported by a significant number of holes from shots in the lower part of the room – the wounded might have been finished off. It’s surprising that this is not even the notorious “Cheka basement,” but the first floor.

It is advisable to keep it in state ownership

This opinion was expressed in a certificate for a meeting of the Cabinet of Ministers regarding the building on the street. Brivibas, 61. “At the same time, assessing for what public administration function the property might be used in the future.”

In all likelihood, VNI has finally given up hope that a house with a difficult fate might attract the attention of some potential investors. The object is too “prayed” in a negative sense. So to speak, with negative energy. However, in the modern office interpretation, the house can hardly be used either – the concept of the current offices assumes the structure of open space, collective spaces, and not closed offices.

And, of course, millions would have to be invested in the building to make it meet modern requirements for energy efficiency, accessibility for people with disabilities, etc.

Meanwhile, the Museum of Occupation, a private entity operating under a separate law, has a unique lease agreement until December 30, 2050, entered into the Land Register. They, however, use only 690 sq. m, or 8% of the total area of ​​the building.

And the VNI board has already hinted that “in accordance with Article 3 of the Law on the Prevention of Waste of Financial Resources and Property of a Public Entity… according to legal regulation, one must act as a prudent owner, and activities must be as businesslike as possible, and it is unacceptable to cause losses to the capital society or the state…” To sum it all up, a state-owned enterprise “cannot undertake the maintenance of a building if it is not used.”