Global Experience: The Station Narva Music Festival in an Abandoned Estonian Factory

In the 1990s, the small city of Narva became a forgotten enclave of Russian culture in newly independent Estonia. Soviet citizens who had settled here after the war still don’t feel part of Estonian culture. With the collapse of the USSR, they were left jobless in a country that felt foreign, unsure whether they were still Russian or had become Estonian. The city’s chief architect and local authorities believe that major cultural events could breathe life back into this border town — including the Station Narva festival. Its organisers see Narva as embodying the romance of Eastern Europe, and believe it could soon become a mini-Berlin. Strelka Mag reports on how the city is trying to shed its image as a politically explosive region.

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A Forgotten Russian Enclave

In the 1990s, Narva’s industry collapsed, markets disappeared, and mass unemployment took hold. Since then, more than 25,000 people — nearly a third of the city’s population — have left. The legendary Kreenholm Manufacturing Company, founded in 1857 and once employing 12,000 residents (almost half of the working-age population during Soviet times), shut down its factories in 2010. Today, this vast industrial zone on Estonia’s far eastern edge is almost entirely abandoned. A small textile company set up by Swedes and former factory workers occupies part of it, alongside an electrical engineering firm.

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A Festival at the Crossroads of Cultures

The economic struggles, along with linguistic and cultural differences, have led many residents to feel forgotten, disconnected from Estonia, and unwilling to engage with central authorities. Narva attracts few tourists, has limited cafés and services, residents rarely get approved for loans, and many Estonians are hesitant to visit the border city.

Change is coming largely through a younger generation unscarred by the upheaval of the ’90s. Narva’s chief architect, Ivan Sergeev, is 31. He helped push for Station Narva, even though organising festivals isn’t part of his job description. His involvement in non-architectural efforts makes sense — the more cultural events take place, the more attractive the city becomes to investors and developers.

Sergeev has been envisioning the revival of Kreenholm for years. In 2016, he sketched out his vision for Narva’s future in the newspaper Eesti Ekspress. Even then, his plans for the Old Spinning Mill included a music stage in the courtyard. Three years later, Kreenholm started looking very much like that sketch.

Once upon a time, a narrow-gauge railway delivered textiles to the spacious courtyard of the Kreenholm complex. Now, the same courtyard and factory halls have hosted acts like Tricky, Grechka, post-punk legends Echo & the Bunnymen, Finnish rockers Joensuu 1685, and 16 more artists from Russia, Estonia, and across Europe.

The Station Narva programme is curated by the team at Shiftworks OÜ, who have also been organising Tallinn Music Week annually since 2009. According to Sergeev, when the team visited Narva, they were thrilled by Kreenholm and the Old Spinning Mill, and decided it was the perfect place for a festival. “Kreenholm has a mysterious feel to it — it’s a closed-off area you can only access on a guided tour. That jaw-drop moment — ‘oh my God, this place actually exists!’ — is truly unique,” says Helen Sildna, head of Shiftworks. She believes Narva is, by its very nature, an international city, and its strength lies in this cultural intersection — not to mention the scenic castle, river, waterfalls, and Russian border. “For politicians and the private sector, it’s quite clear that Narva has been overlooked. What’s strange is that not everyone sees the obvious: culture is the most natural way to bring different people together.”

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A New Life for the Kreenholm Factory

Narva aspires to become a creative hub and “shake off the label of a politically sensitive region,” say the festival organisers. Sergeev hopes the festival will awaken the city, reconnecting it to Estonia and the wider world: “For the past 27 years, the city and the state have been trying to understand each other and build cooperation. Narva is still figuring out its identity. Do we want to be a tourist destination and international cultural centre? Or an industrial city? This process of self-discovery is captivating,” he says.

Surprisingly, the vast Kreenholm complex — large enough to host Station Narva, a summer picnic, a small rave, and a jam festival all at once — is privately owned by a Swedish entrepreneur. For now, its future remains uncertain. The owner isn’t rushing to redevelop it but also isn’t blocking festivals, performances, or guided tours. One potential plan — to transform the 13,000-hectare site into a creative cluster with housing, commercial spaces, and art galleries — remains just that: a plan on paper.