An Album of Longing for Home

Līva Dumpe Reflects on Life Abroad, Homesickness, and Growth in Her Debut Album Tālskatis

«When I’m at home in the Latvian countryside, I take my grandfather’s telescope and head out to observe Baltic nature.» — This is the opening line you’ll find on Līva Dumpe’s Bandcamp page. Tālskatis (Telescope) is the singer and composer’s latest album, released this June, featuring 10 compositions in both English and Latvian. Alongside Līva, another Latvian musician, flutist Ketija Ringa-Karahona, joined the recording, together with Līva’s close musical friends, with whom she actively performs in the Netherlands and abroad: Massimo Imperatore (guitar), Omer Govreen (double bass), and Ilia Rayskin (drums). «In this album, the telescope symbolizes the desire to see further into the unknown, but it is also an object to hide behind if needed,» the Bandcamp page continues. We spoke about the album, its creation and release, her longing for home, and Līva’s achievements abroad and plans right after the Ventspils Groove festival, where she taught vocals this summer.

Congratulations on your album! I heard the piece you mentioned in our last interview — the one where you used Eartha Kitt’s speech.

Yes, that speech!

Very cool. I listened to the album — it was beautiful and interesting, and after each track, I was curious about what would come next. Could you tell me a bit about the album?.

The album came together while we were already playing and performing a lot with my quintet. It wasn’t the usual process of first recording and then going on tour. For us, it was the other way around — we performed the program live many times, so recording it felt like the natural next step. The record brings together ten compositions I’ve written over the last four years.

Some pieces, like Tālskatis and Compromise, were written as early as four years ago, while others are more recent, having been written just last year.

We all live in Amsterdam and studied together, but we recorded the album in Osnabrück, Germany, which is close by and offers an amazingly cozy environment. The studio itself is great, but the setting is excellent as well — you can stay overnight, there’s a kitchen, a sauna, and even table tennis, which creates a more open and creative atmosphere rather than a strictly professional one. That’s why I chose it: I wanted it to feel like home, where we could also enjoy evenings together.

The mixing was done by trumpet player Alistair Payne, who also works as a sound engineer, and the mastering was done by Christoph Stickel in Vienna. That’s the short technical side.

What is this album about, to you?

It’s really a reflection on what’s happened in my life. Moving from Latvia to the Netherlands, it holds both naïve and more profound reflections — looking back on Latvian nature with a sense of nostalgia and melancholy.
Sometimes I really miss home while living in Amsterdam. The album captures that longing and the process of growing up. In Amsterdam, life hits harder, and you can hear that in the music too — the naïveté fades and gives way to something more direct. In essence, the album is about growing up and shifting perspectives, moving from innocence to a sharper, clearer outlook.

What do you mean by «harsher things»?

For example, in Compromise, the text isn’t mine — it uses Eartha Kitt’s actual words ina straightforward, conversational way. Another piece, Fight mini-symphony, written in three parts, was inspired by my impressions after the war in Ukraine began. The first part begins with more metaphorical imagery — such as struggling with your «inner child.» However, as the piece develops, the metaphors fall away, and the message becomes raw and straightforward.

Stop the Fight is my direct statement. I try not to say what I think. That’s what I want to reach — speaking in a more precise, more direct language.

The album has songs in several languages. Sometimes mixing languages splits the audience — people abroad might not understand Latvian. Weren’t you worried about that?

From my experience singing in Latvian abroad, people usually don’t understand the lyrics unless I explain them before or after. But to them, Latvian just sounds like something new and intriguing — a fresh color. With languages like German or French, listeners are more familiar. Latvian, though, feels exotic, and people respond positively.

That’s why the album begins with two songs in Latvian — to show where I come from. Then it continues in English, which is the language I use more daily. Whenever possible, I explain the lyrics in Latvian so the audience gets at least a general idea of the story. But Amsterdam is such an international place that differences are welcomed, even celebrated. People are genuinely curious to hear about different languages and cultures.

Haven’t you noticed, though, that sometimes promoters expect something «easier» — in English or instrumental — instead of songs in languages like Latvian?

Actually, I had a surprising experience: my PR manager sent the album to a French radio station, and of all the tracks, they chose the one in Latvian. They liked hearing something unusual and not immediately recognizable.

Since you mentioned PR, how did the release process go? Did you handle everything yourself, or did you have a team, a manager, someone to coordinate with designers and so on?

I self-released the album. I had advisors and talked with several labels, but didn’t find the right fit. So I decided to take full responsibility for the artistic and release side myself. Still, I brought in a couple of people to focus on PR, because I didn’t have the contacts to reach out to European press on my own. I wanted the album to reach beyond my immediate circle, so while I handled the music and release process, others handled publicity.

Do you have experience working with labels through other projects?

Yes, in some projects where I was a guest artist. In the Netherlands, working with a label is very beneficial — they provide access to concerts, festivals, and venue awards. For example, with the Dutch Music Awards, if you’re signed to a label, you automatically have priority; however, if you’re independent, you can’t even apply. Labels also have connections to competitions and showcases that make a big difference.

This time, I didn’t go that route, so that’s one drawback — I don’t have a Dutch label behind this album. Instead, I focused on getting it noticed across Europe. Maybe for the next album, I’ll look more toward the Dutch scene and how to get into festivals there.

One more about the album — especially the piece Compromise. It feels important. What was behind including it? And as a woman in jazz, often a male-dominated field, has that influenced you?

I’d split that into two parts. On the one hand, in Amsterdam and across the Netherlands, there has been a significant push in recent years to highlight women in music.

For example, many festivals have an unofficial rule of aiming for a 50/50 balance between male and female artists. That includes both instrumentalists and vocalists. There is a strong effort to create balance, and you can see it in programming. Festivals actively seek out female artists, particularly instrumentalists and singers. It’s really encouraging for audiences and younger generations to see women on stage with instruments often considered «masculine.» Over time, I believe this will make achieving gender balance feel more natural.

On the personal side, yes, as a female musician, and especially as a vocalist, you sometimes have to prove yourself more. Prejudices do exist. However, I see it as motivation to keep growing and improving. At the same time, it’s essential just to be yourself, not to try to please everyone, because some people will always find something to criticize.

And what’s next for you?

Right now, I’m focusing on booking concerts, applying to festivals, and planning the following season. The first round of concerts after the album release is done, so now it’s about looking ahead.
I also want to expand composition-wise—not just for my quintet, but also for solo, duo, or even larger ensembles. I feel like I’ve closed one chapter, and now it’s time to explore new formats. The plan is to start writing new material.