A recent survey showed that Tallinn residents' satisfaction with the city has dropped to its lowest level in the past decade. Did this result make you reflect more seriously as well?

It didn't worry me too much, because in reality, the satisfaction numbers were still very high — if I remember correctly, around 87 percent of people were satisfied with the city. That's a very good figure. It's also important to keep in mind that any kind of change often causes temporary dissatisfaction. People are generally cautious about change by nature and tend to prefer the status quo. Whether the current decline is directly related to that is hard to say. Still, I don't think it should be overemphasized, since satisfaction remains at a high level. If it had dropped from, say, 90 percent to 50, then there would be serious cause for concern.

You mentioned changes — you've been in office since August 1. Can you already point to a specific change you can take credit for?

Urban planning is a very long-term process — results often become visible only after 10 or even 20 years. We've launched several important projects that will bring change to the city in the future. At the same time, previously initiated processes are continuing, such as the construction of new tram lines. For decades, Tallinn has done very little to develop its tram network, apart from the recently completed Old Harbor tramline and the section running from Majaka tänav to the airport.

Tallinn's population is growing, but that growth is uneven — some areas are expanding rapidly, while development in others is more modest. It's in these fast-growing areas that we urgently need to create efficient and rapid public transport solutions, especially rail-based transit, which can move more people from one place to another at once.

This is critically important for Tallinn's development, because we can't widen streets, nor is it feasible to build many new ones. At the same time, the population is increasing, people are becoming more affluent and the number of cars keeps rising. That's why we need to provide strong alternatives to driving.

What would you say is your own personal satisfaction level with Tallinn?

My satisfaction with Tallinn depends on the area of focus, but overall, I'm satisfied with the city — especially when comparing it to others. I also see Tallinn's future in a positive light.

The major recent restructuring of the city's departments and institutions has already started yielding results. For example, the Urban Planning Department has managed to shorten processing times — over the past year, the average duration for detailed planning procedures, from initiation to adoption, has been reduced by around 200 days. That shows we've started analyzing and mapping our services more thoroughly to make them more efficient.

When it comes to urban space and what affects people in their daily lives, Tallinn is a very diverse city. It has different historical layers and living environments — wooden districts like Kalamaja and Pelgulinn, elegant areas like Kadriorg and completely different neighborhoods such as Mustamäe and Lasnamäe. The Maakri area, with its high-rises, is something else entirely, while Telliskivi stands out with its creative atmosphere. Nõmme, on the other hand, is truly distinctive and separate in character.

Many cities don't have this kind of diversity — Tallinn is like a box of assorted candies, with a bit of everything. That variety provides a strong foundation for future development, and the existing layers of the city help give new projects a clear sense of identity.

Why should new developments consider the unique character of each city district?

If we look at development around the outskirts of Tallinn, it's clear that many of these "middle-of-the-field" areas lack a strong spatial identity. These new developments may be modern and functional, but they don't have the same historical layers and distinct character as, say, Põhja-Tallinn, where former industrial zones, architecture and history create a unique atmosphere. For example, the Kopli lines and Telliskivi area add entirely new value to that part of the city — older layers are preserved, while new developments are added organically, greatly enriching the area.

The same goes for Noblessner, where places like the Seaplane Harbor and the Maritime Museum bring unique historical and cultural value to the district. Tallinn has a very strong foundation to build on — it offers a level of diversity that many other cities can only envy. If we look at American cities, for instance, many of them are quite monotonous because large residential areas were built rapidly and all the buildings tend to look the same.

In urban development, it's crucial to avoid uniformity. People want to live in areas that offer variety and character, where each neighborhood has its own face and identity. Take Lasnamäe, for example — it lacks that distinctiveness. The buildings are mostly uniform and new developments tend to follow the same pattern. That means the area is missing the kind of diversity and uniqueness in its living environment that places like Põhja-Tallinn naturally have.

That's why it's so important that new developments aren't just rows of copy-paste buildings, but instead bring new layers and personality to the neighborhood.

It seems to me that the new development business is doing just fine despite the monotony of the buildings.

Yes, new developments are often initially attractive because people are drawn to the "new" — it's fresh and seems better than older housing. But you don't need to be a fortune-teller to see that 20 or 30 years down the line, the buildings that seem new today may lose their value over time. Their value drops because people may no longer be willing to buy them with the same enthusiasm and excitement as they do today.

In contrast, take the Põhja-Tallinn area, where there's already history and older architecture — the situation there is different. Areas with historical layers create a unique atmosphere that can't be easily replicated. The value of apartments in such neighborhoods tends to increase over time because they're surrounded by history and distinct character. That's even more true if we can ensure those areas have fast and reliable public transport connections to the rest of the city.

Also important is having enough greenery and parks, which are crucial. All of this makes those areas increasingly valuable and desirable over time. So in the long run, their value is likely to surpass that of the newer, more uniform developments, which may eventually lose the appeal they once had.

While architectural diversity and historical layering give the areas you mentioned their distinctive character, these developments often become uniform in a different way — by population. They tend to attract mainly the same type of residents: people with uniformly high incomes. Have you also considered how to prevent Tallinn from becoming segmented by income level?

We take this issue very seriously because it's like a ticking time bomb that could create major problems in the future — not just for Tallinn, but for society and the country as a whole.

Põhja-Tallinn is currently undergoing significant demographic change. Historically, it was an industrial part of the city, home to factories and the workers who staffed them. Now, we're seeing lower-income residents gradually moving out, being replaced by a more affluent middle class.

A big problem is the disappearance of industry from Põhja-Tallinn. In the past, blue-collar workers could find employment close to home, but now they often have to commute to places like Rae Municipality. That means spending more time and money on commuting, while white-collar jobs have increased in the area, allowing those workers to stay close to home.

Another key issue is the rise in property prices. Many residents in Põhja-Tallinn are from the older generation who moved there in the 1960s and '70s when the buildings were newly constructed and they were young. Now, we're seeing a generational shift — those former young adults are now of retirement age and time inevitably takes its toll.

Most of their children no longer live in the area, having bought homes elsewhere. When the parents' homes become vacant, they're usually put up for sale. Since property values in the area have risen, this becomes an opportunity for many families to earn additional income. But those apartments are then bought by more affluent people, leading to gradual population turnover. This brings us to the problem of certain areas in Tallinn becoming homogenous — populated by people with similar incomes and backgrounds.

Another challenge lies in Lasnamäe. The city and the Urban Planning Department have now begun developing a central vision for Lasnamäe with the goal of creating a strong urban center there. Lasnamäe has enormous, but still underutilized, economic potential. It has as many residents as Tartu and Viljandi combined. But if you think about Tartu and Viljandi, they have restaurants, cafés, theaters — a vibrant urban life. Lasnamäe, despite having the population to support it, currently lacks such a lively center.

A good example is the experimental pavilion of the Tallinn Art Hall, which was brought to Lasnamäe. In its first year, it attracted more visitors than the pavilion on Freedom Square (Vabaduse väljak). It drew in a completely new audience — people who had never been to the Art Hall before. That shows there's a clear need and interest in culture in Lasnamäe.

Until now, Lasnamäe has been treated primarily as a bedroom community — a place to live, but with limited other activity. Transforming it into a multifunctional urban environment is now one of our key priorities.

So where exactly could this Lasnamäe center be located?

Right now, we're mapping out the Tondiraba area with the goal of turning it into the center of Lasnamäe — something akin to Central Park in Manhattan. Of course, the scale is different, but the idea is the same: an urban, vibrant environment taking shape around a park.

Tondiraba is special because it's one of the few places in Tallinn where both the city and the state own land. That's a major advantage, as in most other districts, the public sector owns very little land, making it harder to steer and shape development.

That's exactly why Tondiraba is a potential location to apply what's known in Estonia as the "Helsinki model," which is still quite rare here. In this model, the city creates the development plan based on its own long-term needs and then partners with the private sector to build out the area. The land would remain city-owned, but the private sector would get building rights for, say, 50 or 100 years, under the conditions and vision set by the city. This would allow for the creation of a cohesive, well-planned urban space that includes residential, commercial and recreational functions.

Lasnamäe needs new jobs and we also want to relocate some public sector offices there. We're currently working with the state to identify suitable sites for various government agencies, and the new planned center in Lasnamäe is definitely a strong candidate.

In fact, the state is already investing in the area — a new state high school will soon begin construction. The city is also contributing, with plans for a new swimming pool and a basic school. That means the public sector has already started developing the area, creating a favorable environment for private investment and the emergence of new jobs.

Is there any way to make Lasnamäe's architecture more varied as well?

We want to introduce different types of buildings to Lasnamäe, because up to now, it has only seen the construction of large apartment blocks. There are no row houses or terraced homes, which limits residents' options and creates a uniform living environment. At the same time, Lasnamäe has both the space and the potential to develop a more diverse urban structure. Of course, you can't place two-story terraced houses right next to nine-story buildings, but it is possible to create gradual transitions and varied building heights. That would give the district a very different look and attract a more diverse population.

Equally important as making the living environment more varied is bringing jobs to Lasnamäe. If we can create mid- and higher-income jobs there, it will help balance the district's development. If purchasing power in the area declines, it can trigger a downward spiral. The private sector has already taken note that Lasnamäe's purchasing power could decrease if the area doesn't change. We've seen examples in global cities where, in similar situations, the middle class begins to leave — accelerating both economic and social challenges.

Would the two-story and terraced houses you're planning be city-owned or would they belong to private developers who would later sell the apartments?

I believe we actually need to use a variety of approaches here.

Elsewhere in the world, we see different models: in some cities, the municipality builds the homes itself; in others, there's collaboration with developers through public-private partnerships. In some cases, the city grants land and gives developers building rights for, say, 100 years. In many Western European cities, housing cooperatives are strongly supported — residents pool their resources to develop the housing themselves, while the city provides the land or guarantees loans.

So the range of possible solutions is quite broad.

In addition, the city is currently developing its own housing policy, which Tallinn has not had until now. That's an important step forward, because housing issues haven't received enough attention in Estonia, even though they've become a pressing concern in many other parts of the world.

So why haven't Estonian people demanded a housing policy from the city or the state?

In Estonia, the housing issue hasn't really been widely recognized — but there's a very simple reason for that. In the early 1990s, we had mass privatization and nearly everyone became a property owner. The next generation, who entered the housing market in the 2000s, had access to very favorable loan conditions. Almost anyone could get a loan and use it to buy an apartment.

But now, the third generation — those currently in university or just entering the workforce — find themselves in a situation where affordable loans are no longer accessible. These young people didn't benefit from privatization and can't afford to buy a home of their own. Future generations are facing increasing difficulty in affording housing at all. Even the middle class is no longer able to buy homes that are livable and meet their needs. For example, a family might have four children but still live in a small apartment because buying a larger home is simply out of reach.

I suppose that means people just end up not having four children, then.

Yes, that's exactly what human geographers at the University of Tartu have pointed out — it's becoming an increasingly pressing issue in Estonia. And it's something Estonian policymakers really need to keep in mind. Young people who could afford to raise three or four children — who could cover the cost of extracurriculars and everything else — can't afford to buy a four-room apartment. So they end up staying in smaller homes and limiting themselves to one or two children instead. The public sector should pay more attention to this and think about how to support young families so they can solve their housing needs.

This is also an area where the public sector could have more influence. We don't have a large, functional public housing stock like the City of Helsinki does. Helsinki is able to provide housing for teachers or large families, for example, but here in Estonia — especially in Tallinn — no such system has been developed. Helsinki has been working on this for 100 years, while in Estonia, we haven't built up a public housing stock at all over the past 30 years.

The last municipal housing Tallinn built was, I think, in the 2000s in Lasnamäe, on Raadiku tänav?

Since then, some housing has been built specifically for teachers, but overall, neither the city nor the state has developed this sector much. That's been a political decision. But I believe the time has come to seriously consider how to support families — especially large families — and provide them with housing that's affordable to rent.

Of course, this doesn't mean we'll be able to provide housing for everyone, but large families should be a priority. They're the ones the city could support by offering fixed-rent housing — even in the city center. Because we need real life in the city center, too — it can't be just Airbnb units and investment properties. Naturally, this is a long-term process, but I believe we need to move in that direction and take the first step sooner rather than later.

But do you think there's real political will to offer affordable housing to large families? So far, the only party that's raised this issue has been the right-wing populist EKRE, but they're not in power in Tallinn.

I believe the political will is there, but it may not be very visible at the moment because current issues — like the war and other global concerns — are drawing more attention. Still, the housing issue is becoming increasingly important. Right now, many politicians in Estonia still claim it's not a major issue, and for a large part of society — those aged 35 and up — it really isn't a problem. These are the people currently in leadership positions, and since they haven't personally experienced the housing challenges younger generations face, they may not fully grasp the issue.

But as a generational shift takes place, things will change. In about ten years, the younger generation will have a stronger presence among decision-makers, while the older generation will naturally step back over time.

People over 35 won't be retiring — or passing on — for quite a while. Can we really afford to wait that long?

I said 35+, but in reality, many of them are already 65 or even 70+ and the demographic makeup of society is gradually shifting.

Another important point is that we're seeing the gap between the price per square meter and the average salary grow every year. Sooner or later, that will start putting real pressure on city and state officials — and politicians — to take this issue more seriously. We shouldn't assume that urban development in Estonia is somehow fundamentally different from the rest of Europe. The problems and patterns are the same, the only difference is the timeline — these issues reach us a bit later.

Western European cities are ahead of us in terms of development and we can already observe the challenges they're facing today — challenges that are coming our way. It would be wise to start preparing for them now.

One thing that has stood out in Tallinn recently is the growing divide between pedestrians and drivers — both sides seem to have increasing demands. As a pedestrian and a mother, I feel like urban planning still favors roads and cars, while drivers, on the other hand, feel that their rights are constantly being restricted. What's your sense of which direction Tallinn is actually heading in? I understand that rhetorically the city leans a bit more toward pedestrians and cyclists, but in reality, for example, the renovation of Pronksi tänav ended up creating more space for cars.

If we look at all the new streets being reconstructed in Tallinn, we're already seeing consideration for both cyclists and pedestrians. It's just a process that takes time — we have a lot of streets and we can't change them all at once. But I believe that in 10 years, if we continue at the current pace, the debate between cars and bicycles won't be as relevant anymore, because the transformation will have followed its natural course.

Yes, you're right about Pronksi tänav — that solution wasn't ideal. But it's important to understand that urban planning and all the processes tied to it are time-consuming — design takes time, construction takes time. That said, in the past 10 years, the principles guiding street design and urban space in Tallinn have shifted significantly. The new streets we're designing now no longer follow the same principles that shaped a street like Pronksi.

It's human nature to be impatient and want change to happen quickly, but the truth is, these things simply take time.

But does change always have to take so much time? Take Berlin, for example — on many one-way roads with two lanes, they've simply given one lane to cyclists using concrete barriers. You don't always need to build an expensive bike lane and redesign the whole street.

Something similar was done in Riga as well. And Tallinn has also taken steps in that direction — there are bike lanes that have been separated and marked in red.

Yes, but that's been done at the expense of greenery and sidewalks — not at the expense of car space.

I agree — finding the right balance is difficult. But cars are necessary too, especially in an aging society where people need easy access to various places.

Right now, what I mostly see is young people in cars — older people are the ones using public transport and walking on sidewalks.

Yes, that's because they can't afford a car.

When we talk about mobility for older adults, there's also a major issue with the structure of our buildings. A large number of apartment buildings have no elevators, and even in those that do, you often have to climb stairs just to reach the elevator. That makes basic everyday tasks — like going to the store — much more difficult.

The city's physical environment needs to be as accessible as possible, so that all people, including the elderly, can live and move independently. Unfortunately, installing elevators is extremely expensive and also requires changes to legislation. Right now, renovation decisions require approval from 51 percent of apartment owners, but adding an elevator affects property shares — since elevators are usually installed outside the building structure, you need 100 percent approval. Installing an elevator also raises maintenance costs, which makes getting to that consensus even harder. I hope the state will revise the laws. And those changes shouldn't apply only to elevator installation but to extensions and additions more broadly.

Renovation is important, but I think in Estonia we've focused too much on insulation and ventilation, while not talking enough about the living environment. That also includes the space between buildings, which ties back to the issue of Lasnamäe. We shouldn't just be building new housing — we should be thinking about how new layers and changes can fit into the existing structure.

Personally, I would support an approach where Soviet-era apartment buildings could be adapted — for example, allowing ground-floor units to add a room, second-floor units to add a half-room or terrace and third-floor units to have balconies. That would help break up the monotony of the architecture.

People should be allowed to shape their own living environment — this would immediately make each neighborhood more distinctive. If every building has its own features, the whole area becomes more diverse. And if you add something like a terrace and start spending time there, it changes the dynamics of the shared outdoor space as well. Of course, we shouldn't privatize or subdivide every bit of land, but bringing spatial variation into these areas is essential to make Lasnamäe's living environment more attractive and vibrant.

Let's come back to the city center — specifically, the Old Town. I don't think I can leave this interview without asking: what's going to happen with the planned annex to the Estonia Theater?

Honestly, no one really knows what's going to happen. That's the truth. At this point, the issue has become more a matter of belief than a rational discussion. People aren't listening to each other — they're locked into their own positions. A big part of the problem is that mistakes were made right at the beginning of the process, and now that the project is underway, it's very difficult to correct those mistakes or find a good solution. The core issue lies in those early decisions, and now various agencies and representatives from the city and state are trying to resolve it.

I'm not sure the Riigikogu Cultural Affairs Committee is the right body to make decisions of such importance for urban development — especially when urban planning experts had offered input at the time but were ignored.

Major cultural projects aren't only built in Tallinn — they're also developed in other cities across Estonia, many of which have shrinking populations. That's why it's especially important to carefully consider where in the urban fabric such investments are placed — so they can help sustain the life of the city. The same goes for Tallinn, even though the urban planning challenges here are different. The Cultural Affairs Committee didn't think consultations were necessary, even though it would've been crucial to take expert opinions into account.

The state didn't commission any spatial or urban studies that could have supported informed, evidence-based decisions for an investment worth hundreds of millions of euros. That's the wrong approach — and when done this way, it amounts to wasting public money.

So what can actually be done to break the deadlock?

In my view, the state needs to show true statesmanship and acknowledge that mistakes have been made. The Riigikogu Cultural Affairs Committee should reconvene and comprehensive analyses need to be commissioned so the situation can be properly reassessed. Especially considering that the land in question — the site currently being acted on — does not belong to the Estonia Theater or the state. That land belongs to the City of Tallinn. Yet the city, as the landowner, was not included in those early discussions.

A decision was made that contradicts both the Heritage Conservation Act and the Nature Conservation Act. That puts the Ministry of Culture, Tallinn city officials and the National Heritage Board in a very difficult position. It's easy to blame officials in the media for "obstructing" the process, but we have to remember that no official is allowed to make decisions that violate the law.

Unfortunately, I don't know how this will ultimately be resolved, but it's clearly a complicated situation that raises many questions. The mistakes made at the beginning have now snowballed into something that's very hard to fix.

And now for the other question from the "must-ask" list — what's going to happen with Linnahall?

I'd like to believe the outlook for Linnahall is more positive — and that there's light at the end of the tunnel. Tallinn's Urban Planning Department and Property Department are currently mapping out different possibilities and functions that could be developed there. One major need we've identified is for a space suitable for hosting trade fairs and conferences. The exhibition pavilion in Pirita is being demolished, so there's no longer a proper venue in Tallinn for large-scale fairs. At the same time, we still don't have a conference center big enough to host something like ten simultaneous panel discussions — the kind of setup that's standard at major international conferences.

Linnahall, however, holds great potential, especially because it could form a strong synergy with the nearby Tallinn Creative Hub (Kultuurikatel), which already has some of the necessary event spaces.

Right now, we're exploring all these ideas — sketching out how different spaces and functions could fit together on the site. We're also looking at how to accommodate interest from organizations like PÖFF (the Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival), which is looking for a home, and ERSO (the Estonian National Symphony Orchestra), which has submitted proposals as well. By testing and refining all these ideas, we hope to arrive at the best possible solution.

The key is for Linnahall to become a multifunctional center — because a standalone conference venue wouldn't be financially sustainable. The city is initiating a new detailed plan for the Linnahall area, which will also cover the surrounding space, so we can create a comprehensive and integrated solution. The goal is for the broader complex to support a viable business model, allowing Linnahall not just to survive, but to fulfill its potential. I truly hope we'll get there in the end.

Will Linnahall itself remain city-owned, while the surrounding areas are sold off?

No, no — the city's policy is that we no longer sell municipal land. The exact plan for how we'll develop the area in cooperation with the private sector hasn't been finalized yet. First, we need to clearly define what the city's own needs are in that space and what we actually want to build there.

Plans for Linnahall are dizzying — just a year ago, Mayor Kõlvart didn't rule out completely demolishing the building and the surrounding area was supposed to be sold to a developer. So does the current plan to build a conference center there still stand after the elections?

None of us can say for sure, but as city departments, our role is to prepare all the possible scenarios and present different solutions to the politicians. They'll make the final decision, but it's our job to develop various options and provide workable proposals.

As for demolition, it's important to remember that Linnahall is a protected heritage site — you can't just tear it down.

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