As in folklore, the gates that separate Dzirnavu iela from EX LIBRIS feel like a boundary between the ordinary world and a magical realm.
Located in the centre of Riga, EX LIBRIS is one of the city’s key spaces for English-language literature. First established as Robert’s Books by former journalist Robert Cottrell in the early 2000s, EX LIBRIS has grown beyond second-hand books. “We want the space to be more than just a thrift shop,” says manager Oskars Barzdiņš, who aims to make the shop a welcoming home for the LGBTQIA+ community. A small team now runs the bookshop, café, bar, and an active events programme, establishing EX LIBRIS as one of Riga’s most vital cultural spaces.
I first walked through the gates two summers ago. Sitting in the courtyard—shaded from the heat—with an excellent coffee and a new collection of old books, I asked if they would welcome a writer-in-residence one summer. They did, this past summer. The residency gave me time to write and a chance to develop creative engagement activities.
The shop is cosy and thoughtfully styled: plants everywhere, shelves of pre-loved books lit by a constellation of lamps. A reading room at the back doubles as an exhibition and event space. There, beside the piano, I ran a monthly creative writing workshop in English called Wordplay—free and open to anyone. The group was wonderfully international. Many were drawn to English as a global lingua franca while staying mindful of its colonising weight and the need to preserve their native tongues.
Workshops often ended as a band began sound-check in the courtyard. Over two months, the yard hosted reading groups, gigs, storytellers, and one electric July night, more than 130 people came to hear the indie-folk group Tante Gaida. EX LIBRIS seems to bend time and space: a refuge, a haven, a place of discovery and community. I’ll remember the bounty of Latvian berries from somebody’s grandmother’s garden, my first taste of yellow cherries, ladybird larvae hatching on the bench, and taking shelter from summer thunderstorms. In winter, its open arms will matter even more.
During my time in Riga, I finished my short-story collection—with generous input from the science-fiction reading group that meets every Saturday. I launched a reading group for stories in translation, curated a night of animations in the courtyard, hosted a very open open-mic, and made valuable literary connections. More than anything, I felt welcomed into a community and witnessed culture in action.
Organisations like Latvian Literature are essential for building international links and supporting translations. But places like EX LIBRIS—which offer welcoming space, free workshops, and bring together artists and writers—are equally crucial in shaping a city’s culture and its next generation of creatives. From a distance now, I’m excited to see how its story develops.