The historic town of Riga has a long and complex past – shaped by merchants, clergy, and shifting powers. In this post, I start with the city’s history: who built it, who ruled it, and how it changed. Then I move on to the architecture – the streets, façades, and churches that still carry traces of that past

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Today, I want to write about a city that left a lasting impression on me. I visited it twice, each time under completely different circumstances – and maybe that’s exactly why it stayed with me so strongly. I had the chance to walk around with my camera at various times of day – and even at night – over the course of several days. Most of my walks took place within a space of less than one kilometer in length and about 700 meters in width, covering the historic city center. Once or twice, I wandered a bit further in different directions to explore other corners. For work-related reasons, I also visited other districts, but I’ll leave those aside for now. What really mattered was that during one of my visits – actually while on a business trip – our organizers booked a hotel whose back entrance opened directly onto the Old Town. Just a few minutes outside and you could already feel the atmosphere of the place.

The city I’m writing about is Riga – the capital of Latvia, one of the Baltic States located in Northern Europe. The history and identity of this place turn out to be far more complex than they might seem at first glance, even though it lies over 2,000 kilometers away from the most popular destinations in Europe.

Historical Context

Riga was founded as a small settlement in the late 12th century by German merchants, and officially established as a city in 1201 by Bishop Albert of Buxhövden, who came to the region from northern Germany (specifically, Lübeck). Albert initiated the city’s development under German town law and laid the foundations for its urban structure.

In its early days, Riga had a commercial and missionary character.

Its location on the Daugava River, with direct access to the Baltic Sea, opened trade routes deep into the continent, reaching as far as Rus’. At the level of the Old Town, the Daugava is about 500 meters wide and lies roughly 14 kilometers from the Baltic coast. Thanks to this, Riga quickly became one of the key ports on the Baltic, and by the 13th and 14th centuries, it had joined the Hanseatic League – a network of trading cities that shaped the economic landscape of Northern Europe for several centuries. A typical medieval Hanseatic city structure emerged, with German elites, fortified walls, and a guild-based order.

The founding of Riga was closely tied to the Northern Crusades – a series of Christianization campaigns targeting pagan Baltic and Finnic tribes. This is a lesser-known, but highly significant chapter of medieval European history. Unlike the crusades to the Holy Land, these campaigns aimed at expanding Christianity (as well as political and trade influence) into the lands of present-day Latvia, Estonia, Lithuania, and Finland. Their goals were both religious and strategic: converting local populations, securing military control over Baltic trade routes, and strengthening the power of the Church and German states. Pope Innocent III granted these expeditions the status of a crusade – participants received indulgences and papal support, just like in the Holy Land. Riga became the seat of an archbishopric, and in 1202, Bishop Albert founded the Order of the Livonian Brothers of the Sword (Fratres Militiae Christi de Livonia) – a new, local military order created to protect the Christian mission in Livonia (modern-day Latvia and Estonia). Riga thus became a strategic base for further missionary and military campaigns toward Estonia and Lithuania. In 1236, the Livonian Order was defeated by the Samogitians, a tribe inhabiting the southern part of present-day Latvia and northern Lithuania. After this defeat, the order was absorbed into the Teutonic Order, a powerful organization established by German crusaders active in areas that today form northern Poland and Lithuania.

The Teutonic Order and the Hanseatic cities, including Riga, shared common interests for a long time. Both sides aimed to stabilize trade in the Baltic Sea, secure maritime and river routes, and promote the Christianization and “civilization” of the pagan regions along the eastern Baltic coast. Riga actively benefited from the military protection provided by the Order, while the Order relied on the trade network and infrastructure of the Hanseatic League. Over time, however, tensions began to rise. The Order was a feudal and military structure, focused on centralizing power, whereas the Hanseatic League represented the interests of autonomous cities and merchant guilds. The Order attempted to interfere in city affairs – for example, by installing its own mayors or limiting the independence of guilds. This led to growing conflicts and friction between the two sides, despite their earlier cooperation.

historic town of Riga | ville historique de Riga | historische Stadt Riga | ciudad histórica de Riga | historyczne miasto Ryga | Rīgas vēsturiskā pilsēta | исторический город Рига | リガの歴史的な町 | 리가의 역사적인 도시 | 里加历史古城

The Teutonic Order lost much of its influence after the Battle of Grunwald in 1410. However, its state survived – though weakened and reorganized. It’s important to note that Riga was not part of the Order’s main territory, but was located in Livonia – a region administered by the Livonian branch of the Teutonic Order. While formally dependent on the Order’s central authority, in practice this branch operated with a fair degree of autonomy. That’s why the defeat at Grunwald didn’t have as direct an impact on Riga as it did, for example, on Malbork. Still, it created a new political landscape. Riga seized the opportunity and began to assert its independence more actively.

During the period of Teutonic dominance, up until the late 15th century, Riga was formally divided between the Archbishop of Riga, the Livonian Brothers of the Sword, and the City Council. These three centers of power competed for influence, but the city gradually gained more independence, especially in economic and municipal matters. By the end of the 15th century, Riga entered a phase of open conflict with both the archbishop and the Order – between 1491 and 1520, the city was effectively engaged in a local war for autonomy. There were sieges, street fights, and constant struggles for control. In the end, the City Council retained authority over internal affairs, laying the foundations for a self-governing city. The turning point came during the Reformation – in 1522, Riga officially adopted Lutheranism. This marked a final break from the previous church-feudal structure and a major step toward spiritual, political, and economic independence.

From that point on, Riga became a de facto free Hanseatic city – self-governed, with its own administration, religion, and direction of development. Although it was still formally part of the Archbishopric of Riga and subject to various external influences, its autonomy was real and lasted well into the early modern period. However, this era also coincided with the decline of the Hanseatic League. The geography of trade routes began to shift, as this was also the age of geographical discoveries. At the same time, emerging nation-states were becoming more interested in controlling economic flows, especially in the form of taxes and customs duties. After the Teutonic Order’s decline and the collapse of its power in Livonia, Riga entered new phases of dependence – no longer under the Order, but now under the influence of state powers. The merchant elites continued to fight for their position, but the opponents had changed.

In the following period, during the Livonian Wars of the 16th century, Riga came under the authority of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth. In 1581, it was officially recognized as a free city under the protection of King Stephen Báthory. The arrangement turned out to be fairly liberal – Riga retained full economic autonomy, its own judicial system, Protestant faith, and self-governing structure. In practice, its obligations to the king were minimal. Over time, however, tensions grew. Attempts at Catholic Counter-Reformation, supported by the monarchy, were not welcomed by the Protestant bourgeoisie. The City Council sought to resist religious interference, and the city began to explore closer ties with Sweden, which offered protection without religious pressure.

In 1621, during the war with Sigismund III Vasa, King Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden captured Riga, marking the beginning of a new chapter in the city’s history. Riga became the second-largest city in the Swedish Empire, after Stockholm. Although it was subject to the Swedish crown, it enjoyed a high degree of autonomy. The municipal structure was preserved, as was the dominance of the German bourgeoisie, the city’s Protestant identity, and its well-developed education system. For merchants, this was a time of stability, commercial freedom, and growth. Riga played an important economic and administrative role within the Swedish state. While tensions with royal officials occasionally arose, they were not destabilizing. It was a golden age of self-governance for Riga’s Protestant bourgeois society.

In 1710, during the Great Northern War, Riga was captured by the Russian troops of Tsar Peter I. Along with all of Livonia, it was incorporated into the Russian Empire. Although Riga had been part of Russia since 1710, a certain degree of local autonomy was initially preserved, and the German bourgeoisie continued to dominate the city’s administration, commerce, and culture. Over time, however, Russia gradually introduced its own official structures, changed the legal system, and reduced the influence of the German elite. Russification policies were supported, and the Russian presence in the city began to grow. Despite these changes, Riga remained one of the empire’s most important ports and a major industrial center, especially during the 19th century. The merchant autonomy was eventually curtailed by the centralization of the imperial administration. The German bourgeois class, which had shaped Riga’s identity for centuries, gradually lost its influence. Still, until the 20th century, the city retained a distinctive cultural and commercial continuity rooted in its Hanseatic, Protestant, and urban traditions – though now subject to the wider interests of imperial powers. Each of these historical phases left its mark – not only in architecture, but also in language, religion, culture, and the urban fabric. Riga was a truly multiethnic metropolis, home to Baltic Germans, Latvians, Jews, Poles, Russians, and other communities, where Eastern and Western influences coexisted and intertwined on many levels.

In the interwar period, after gaining independence in 1918, Riga became the capital of a young and ambitious republic. After World War II, it was incorporated into the Soviet Union and went through a difficult phase of intense Sovietization, which left a mark on both the urban fabric and the lives of its residents. Even so, many aspects of local identity survived – often hidden or barely visible, but preserved in memory and everyday gestures. Today, Riga is the independent capital of a European country that has been a member of the European Union since 2004.

Walking the Streets of Riga

Riga’s wealth, accumulated over centuries thanks to its strategic location on the Daugava River and its role as one of the region’s major trading ports, has always been reflected in the city’s architecture. Every period of prosperity left behind its mark in the form of representative buildings – both religious and secular – that today bear witness to the city’s shifting cultural and political influences. During its time in the Hanseatic League, Gothic merchant warehouses, churches, and guild halls were constructed. Under Swedish rule, new public buildings and schools were added, often supported by the crown. Then, in the 19th century, during the period of Russian rule, Riga experienced a true economic boom as an industrial and port hub of the empire. This sparked rapid urban and architectural growth, resulting in the construction of dozens of buildings in eclectic, neo-Renaissance, and especially Art Nouveau styles. Riga’s architecture is a direct reflection of its history – a story told in stone, brick, and stucco, capturing the city’s development, its people, and their aspirations. Riga consciously embraces its layered past. Walking through its streets, you get the feeling that everything exists side by side – old and new, monumental and intimate, Western and Eastern. And maybe that’s exactly why it’s a place you want to return to.

When you stand behind St. Peter’s Church and look to the right, you’ll notice an unassuming building with a beautiful bas-relief. This is one of the structures that belong to the Konventa Sēta complex – or monastic courtyard. The fact that it forms a cohesive complex only becomes fully visible when you look down from St. Peter’s tower. The origins of this site go back to the 13th century. It was originally founded as a Dominican monastery, brought to Riga by Bishop Albert as part of establishing church and urban structures in the newly Christianized region. The Dominicans, a preaching order, played a significant role in shaping the city’s religious, educational, and social life. At the heart of the complex was a monastery with a chapel, which in the 14th and 15th centuries was expanded and transformed into St. John’s Church. The building has retained its Gothic character, including a stepped gable with vertical pilaster strips and copper details. Around the church, cloisters, convent houses, utility buildings, workshops, and warehouses were built, forming a self-contained and functional urban quarter. After the Reformation in the 16th century, the Dominicans left the monastery. St. John’s Church was handed over to the Lutheran community, while the remaining buildings came under the administration of the city authorities and were used as storage spaces, residences, and workshops. Despite these changes, the original spatial layout was preserved. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, some buildings were rebuilt. After World War II, the complex was placed under heritage protection, and in the 1970s and 1980s, it was restored and unified under the name Konventa Sēta. Today, it includes St. John’s Church, former monastic buildings, courtyards, and parts of the medieval city walls.

Konventa Sēta with St John’s Church visible in the background. Some of the photos were taken from the observation platform on the tower of St Peter’s Church.

When you first approach St. Peter’s Church in Riga from the rear, you’re convinced you’re about to enter a magnificent Gothic structure. The red-brick apse, stepped gables, and pointed arch windows all speak to its medieval origins and architectural coherence. But as you walk around to the main entrance, you’re met with a completely different façade – one that unmistakably belongs to a later period. Baroque portals, sculpted figures, and curving volutes mark a shift in style and fashion. It becomes immediately clear that at some point, only the front of the church was rebuilt to reflect the aesthetics of a newer era. This contrast is the result of centuries of reconstruction and adaptation. St. Peter’s Church (Svētā Pētera baznīca) is one of Riga’s oldest churches, with origins dating back to the 13th century, when the first wooden building was erected. In the 14th century, it was rebuilt as a Gothic brick basilica, with a three-aisled interior and a prominent tower. Over the centuries, the church was repeatedly damaged by fires – most notably in 1666 – leading to significant structural changes. The greatest transformation occurred in the 17th and 18th centuries, when the main façade and the tower were redesigned in the Baroque style. The tower, after collapsing in 1721, was rebuilt in its current form, and the western entrance took on its ornate appearance, in line with architectural trends of the time. Despite these changes, much of the medieval layout and Gothic detailing – especially in the eastern part of the church – remains intact.

Today, the church stands as a visual summary of Riga’s layered past: medieval, Baroque, and modern. Its 123-metre tower now houses an observation platform, offering sweeping views of the Old Town and beyond. St. Peter’s functions not only as a Lutheran church but also as a cultural venue, hosting exhibitions and concerts in one of the city’s most emblematic historic spaces.

St Peter’s Church seen from the rear, where it appears distinctly Gothic, followed by views of the front façade – rebuilt in the Baroque style – and the interior.

Upon leaving St Peter’s Church, if you turn left and walk in the direction of the Daugava River, you will arrive at Town Hall Square (Rātslaukums). This square is home to the Riga Town Hall, which was rebuilt after the Second World War, and also to two strikingly ornate, interconnected buildings now commonly referred to as the House of the Blackheads. Although they now form a unified architectural complex, their origins and original functions remained separate until the late 19th century.

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The House of the Blackheads (Latvian: Melngalvju nams) is the older of the two. It was originally built in 1334 as the “New House of the Great Guild”, used by local merchants for ceremonial and representative purposes. From the mid-15th century, it was rented by the Brotherhood of Blackheads – an elite association of unmarried merchants and shipowners who held meetings, balls, concerts, and charitable events there. Over time, the Brotherhood became the building’s owners. Its façade was rebuilt in a mannerist style (notably in 1615), with rich ornamentation and the addition of the famous clock in 1626. The building was destroyed during the Second World War and was fully reconstructed between 1996 and 1999. Immediately to the left of the House of the Blackheads stands a smaller building now known as the Schwabe House. It originated in the medieval period as an independent burgher’s townhouse, whose exact function is no longer clearly known (likely residential and commercial). In 1889–1891, the house was thoroughly rebuilt to a new, representational design by architect Karl Felsko for the Schwabe trading company, which gave the building its name. During that time, it was also functionally and structurally integrated with the House of the Blackheads, forming a coherent ensemble with aligned stylistic and practical purposes.

Today, the two buildings are regarded as a single complex, commonly referred to as the House of the Blackheads. In addition to their architectural and historical significance, they now serve as a prominent venue for official events, exhibitions, and tourism, and form one of the key landmarks of Riga’s Old Town.

Aerial view of Town Hall Square, followed by images of the façade of the House of the Blackheads, the statue of Roland in the centre of the square, and several decorative figures on the building itself – including St George slaying the dragon, St Maurice with his characteristic black face, and the figure of the City Guard.

The Brotherhood of Blackheads was a historical association of unmarried foreign merchants, most of them of German origin, who were active in Riga from the 14th century. The Brotherhood functioned as both a commercial and semi-military organisation, playing a key role in the economic, social, and ceremonial life of the city. Members helped protect merchant convoys, financed civic projects, and organised important public celebrations. The name “Blackheads” might appear unusual at first glance, but it has a clear origin. The guild’s patron saint was Saint Maurice — a Roman legionary commander of African origin, who is traditionally depicted in medieval European iconography with a black head. It is from this iconographic image that the Brotherhood took its name. A small statue of a dark-headed man, referencing St Maurice, still adorns the entrance to the House of the Blackheads in Riga.

Also drawing attention on the square is an independent townhouse with a dark – almost black -façade, separated from the House of the Blackheads by a small side street. It is not connected to, nor historically part of, the Blackheads complex. This is an ordinary burgher’s building, most likely constructed in the 19th century as part of a row of administrative or commercial properties lining the square. Due to its strikingly dark façade and proximity to the well-known House of the Blackheads, it is often mistakenly associated with the complex. Its distinctive appearance stems from the deep, shadowy colour of its exterior, which stands in sharp contrast to the bright red bricks of the adjacent buildings.

At the centre of the square stands the statue of Roland, the medieval knight and legendary paladin of Charlemagne. His presence symbolises the city’s medieval legal independence and civic pride, in keeping with similar Roland statues found in other Hanseatic towns.

Approaching from Town Hall Square and heading towards the central parts of Riga’s historic old town, one arrives at Riga Cathedral (Rīgas Doms) – the largest medieval church in Latvia and one of the city’s key landmarks. Construction began on 25 July 1211 at the initiative of Bishop Albert von Buxhövden, who had previously founded Riga as an episcopal missionary city during the Northern Crusades. From the outset, the cathedral was intended to serve as the spiritual centre of the new diocese and the seat of the cathedral chapter, which played a significant role in both ecclesiastical and civic administration.

The original church was built in the Romanesque style, but by the 13th and 14th centuries it had already undergone significant extensions in the Gothic style. In the 15th century, the tower was added and the chancel enlarged. Along with adjoining cloisters, chapter buildings, and an enclosed courtyard, the cathedral formed a self-contained complex of great religious and intellectual significance – home to schools, scribes, and early missionary work.

After Riga adopted Lutheranism in 1522, the cathedral – like many other churches in the city – was transferred to the Evangelical Lutheran congregation. Over the following centuries, it suffered repeated damage: partial destruction in the 16th century, and again during Swedish and Russian sieges. In the 18th century, the tower was topped with a Baroque spire, which for a time became the tallest structure in the city. At the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, the building underwent substantial restoration in the spirit of historicism, with efforts to recover some of its Gothic features. The monumental pipe organ installed at this time was for many years considered one of the largest in Europe.

During the Soviet period, the cathedral was secularised and used as a concert hall, which, despite the loss of its religious function, helped ensure its preservation. Following Latvia’s independence in 1991, the building was returned to the Evangelical Lutheran Church and gradually reinstated as a place of worship.

The Lutheran cathedral in Riga, first seen from the viewing platform at St Peter’s Church, then from the square in front, and finally in a close-up of its façade. Capturing it on camera proved difficult, as the building is tucked away among narrow streets.

As you continue exploring the streets of Riga, you’ll notice that the spirit of its historic past lingers well beyond the major landmarks. Many smaller buildings, side streets and architectural details still echo the city’s former grandeur – even if their façades have been altered or rebuilt in later centuries. The layers of time are visible everywhere, and even outside the main tourist routes, the Old Town reveals corners that speak of Riga’s medieval and early modern identity. Below are a few more impressions from the very centre of the historical city.

A few more glimpses from the heart of Riga’s historical centre. As one might expect given the city’s layered past, a blend of architectural styles is clearly visible.

If we cross to the other side of the historic Old Town, moving away from the Daugava River and heading northeast from Town Hall Square, the cobbled lanes begin to open up, and the dense architecture gives way to greenery. Eventually, we reach a more spacious area where the old town begins to taper off, and in front of us appears a park. This is Bastejkalns Park – a narrow strip of greenery that follows the city canal, a quiet place filled with footbridges, benches, and low trees. Despite its central location, the atmosphere here is calm, almost intimate. It’s clearly a space not just for tourists, but also for locals – some strolling, others reading on benches, while a few simply pass through on their way home or to work.

At the edge of this park stands the Freedom Monument, impossible to miss – a tall, slender obelisk rising above the treetops, topped by a female figure holding three golden stars. Unveiled in 1935, the monument commemorates the soldiers who died in the Latvian War of Independence, fought between 1918 and 1920. It was a turbulent time, as the newly declared Latvian republic defended its sovereignty first against the Red Army, and later against German paramilitary formations operating in the region. After several key battles – including those at Riga and Cēsis – Latvia succeeded in securing its independence and signed a peace treaty with Soviet Russia.

The monument, designed by sculptor Kārlis Zāle, is more than a striking piece of architecture; it’s a carefully composed narrative in stone and bronze. At its base are sculptural groups depicting scenes from Latvian history – peasants at work, Latvian riflemen, allegories of sacrifice and spiritual freedom, and a grieving mother. In total, the monument features 13 sculptural groups and 56 individual figures, symbolising both the past and the ideals on which the Latvian state was built. At the very top stands the female figure known affectionately as Milda, holding aloft three golden stars representing Latvia’s historic regions: Kurzeme, Vidzeme, and Latgale. During the Soviet occupation, the monument became a quiet site of resistance – despite restrictions, people would still lay flowers at its base, often under the cover of darkness. Today, it remains the setting for national ceremonies, parades, the daily changing of the Honour Guard, and moments of quiet reflection.

Facing the monument, to your right, is a pale, elegant building – the Latvian National Opera. This neoclassical structure, built in the 19th century, is home to the country’s main opera and ballet stage and continues to serve its original cultural purpose. Designed by German architect Ludwig Bohnstedt, the building is known not only for its harmonious proportions but also for its excellent acoustics. On sunny days, you’ll often find people relaxing on the steps or nearby in the park – some awaiting a performance, others simply enjoying the atmosphere.

The Freedom Monument, and further on Bastejkalns Park, and the façade of the National Opera.

After a quiet moment by the National Opera, it’s worth turning and continuing along Brīvības iela, heading northeast. This is the main thoroughfare that connects the Old Town with the more modern parts of the city. As we walk, we pass through Esplanāde Park – a well-maintained green space with broad paths and sculptures, offering a welcome contrast to the cobbled streets and close architecture of the old centre. The route is straightforward – just keep going, and soon the first hints of Art Nouveau architecture begin to appear on the horizon.

After about fifteen to twenty minutes on foot, we arrive in the heart of Riga’s Art Nouveau District. This part of the city is renowned for its exceptional collection of turn-of-the-century buildings – especially along Alberta iela and Elizabetes iela, where ornate facades, sculptural details and decorative flourishes catch the eye at every step.

I’ve already written extensively about this district in a separate post – where you’ll find background on the architecture, historical context, and a guide to the most noteworthy buildings. You’ll find the link to that post below, after the photo gallery.

The Art Nouveau District in Riga, developed mainly in the early 20th century, reflects the city’s rapid economic growth at the time. Many of the buildings were constructed between 1899 and 1914, showcasing elaborate facades, flowing forms, and ornate decorative detail characteristic of the style.

It’s difficult to capture Riga in a single post – a city so rich in history, architecture and symbolism. In this piece, I’ve taken you on a walk through time – from the city’s Hanseatic roots and Lutheran heritage to the powerful symbolism of the Freedom Monument.

Along the way, I’ve left out a few prominent sites – not because they aren’t worth seeing, but because they didn’t quite belong to the route I followed. One of them is Riga Castle, the city’s historic fortress on the banks of the Daugava. On each of my visits, it’s been under renovation – inaccessible and wrapped in scaffolding, impossible to photograph, yet still looming quietly behind the construction barriers. Another is the Nativity of Christ Orthodox Cathedral, whose golden domes rise above Esplanāde Park. Majestic and unmistakable, it represents a very different strand of the city’s spiritual and architectural heritage – one that stands apart from the Lutheran skyline of the Old Town, yet very much belongs to Riga’s layered identity. And then there’s the striking Latvian Academy of Sciences – a towering Soviet-era structure built in the 1950s. With its heavy, symmetrical design and sharp verticals, it stands as a clear expression of Socialist Realist architecture. Locals refer to it with a mix of irony and familiarity, and it remains one of the most recognisable silhouettes on the city’s skyline. Today, it houses a scientific institution and offers a viewing platform from its upper floors – a vantage point that looks out across the rooftops of the Old Town and beyond.

These are stories for another time. Riga doesn’t lend itself to being told all at once. It invites you to return, to walk again, to let the city reveal itself slowly – step by step.