An Artistic Gamble

Borrowing Money, Paying It All Back, and Realizing That What Follows Is Only Surprises: Ksenija Afanasjeva on How She Accidentally Built a Place in Riga Where Jazz Now Thrives

For two years now, Riga has had an unusual spot where a bar, visual art, and music all come together. I still remember the first time it appeared in my Facebook events feed. At first, I couldn’t figure out what it was or whether it was worth visiting, because nothing seemed clear. What stuck in my memory was just an image — a huge mirror and a piano. Some kind of art living room, I thought at the time.

After a while, I started noticing more and more events — music, art — and then it all clicked: the city had gained another home for art. That place was MASA Studio. Not long after, Ksenija, the founder, reached out to invite me to drop by and talk. So I did. Then came a performance, and later, the casual socializing when I went simply as a listener. Having experienced the place from all sides, the logical next step was to interview for this magazine. After all, Riga can never have too many jazz houses, and every venue needs visibility and support. Listeners need places to listen, musicians need places to play — especially when the place itself is both cool and, even more importantly, different from all the rest.

Hello, Ksenija! Could you tell me a little about this excellent space, MASA Studio / Art Gallery / Culture Bar?

Let me first explain the concept, and then I’ll describe the name, because nobody ever understands why it’s called MASA.

Go on! I had two guesses myself: either from «sister» (māsa) or «mass» (masa).

The second one is correct. Now there’s even a restaurant called «Māsa,» and, in my opinion, they weren’t too careful when they branded themselves as «masariga» on social media, because people sometimes confuse us.

MASA Studio is a cultural space that brings together three elements — art, music, and drinks. That’s why we host contemporary art exhibitions, live music events, and have a bar with a curated cocktail menu. That’s the core of the concept.

Every Friday there’s live music, and starting next year we’ll add Saturdays as well. The idea is to expand the program so that people have more reasons to come here, and more to discover in these rooms. Exhibitions rotate regularly. Personally, I specialize in salon-style layouts — similar to those found in the Paris salons of the 19th century, where paintings would hang from floor to ceiling in rooms with high ceilings. I organize group shows with works hung in layers, closely together, so more artists can be part of the exhibition. Sometimes curators bring their own ideas and funding, and rent the gallery for their projects.

Musically, the focus here is primarily on jazz, but we also host concerts featuring neoclassical, blues, funk, and occasionally jazz-rock. Often musicians bring their own original music. Our audience appreciates that — here you won’t hear cover bands, because people don’t want that in this space. I realized that my listeners are drawn to more creative, original work.

Tell me a bit about yourself. Why art? What’s your relationship with it?

Creativity has fascinated me since an early age, but art truly entered my life around 16–17. At that time, I needed a way to express myself. Now I can explain it very simply: my form of self-realization is organizing, being useful, being important, contributing something, and leading processes. It’s essential for me to create something and to take the lead. In my work and business, I’ve found a way to combine these qualities — to benefit not only myself but also society.

That’s why my business isn’t just about promoting established artists and musicians, but also about giving opportunities to new talent who have something to say and are truly good at what they do.

I started organizing exhibitions at 19 because I simply felt the need to. I realized I’m not an artist in the traditional sense. The process of creating an artwork exhausts me. I may have the idea and know exactly how it should look, but I don’t want to execute it myself.

What I enjoy is organizing, structuring, and arranging things. I also realized that many artists feel the opposite — they love creating but dislike the organizing. So in this way, we can help each other.

Wait, you said, «as I now understand art, the artist.» What did you mean by that?

Nowadays, what matters most is the ideas, the concept, and the process of creating the work. It’s no longer just about reflecting reality, as it often was in the past, but about the moment of performance, the act of creation itself, the emotions you invest in it. I don’t feel like I have anything to express that the whole world simply must see, know, or understand. But I can help someone else bring their idea to the public. Essentially, I’m a manager. I could be a manager in construction or in a kitchen — that doesn’t matter. I just happen to love art, and creative people fascinate me. That’s probably why I work in the arts.

So you see yourself more as an observer and organizer, rather than a creator?

Yes, you could put it that way.

But you do create something yourself — the drinks! What’s special about MASA’s cocktails?

They’ll become special starting next year. Currently, our menu features the classics and a few signature cocktails. From the new year, we’ll introduce a concept that invites everyone to participate. Each cocktail will be named after an art movement — for example, Academicism, Abstraction, Impressionism, and Neoromanticism. And the cocktails will reflect the «flavors» of those styles.

And you yourself are behind the bar?

At the moment, yes. I had to learn bartending because I had no opportunity, money, or resources to hire someone to run the bar, come up with everything, and manage it. A few professional bartenders I knew were kind enough to help me, answer my questions, and teach me the basics. From there, I figured out my own way, experimenting with flavors and creating drinks people liked. My superpower is that I learn very quickly, so along with the bar, the music field also became something close to me. But from next year, I plan to build a team.

And how do you feel behind the bar?

Honestly, I enjoy it. At first, I resisted it — I really didn’t want to be behind the bar or deal with it at all. But it was a necessary step when shaping the concept of this place. I had to learn it, and in the end, I actually grew to like it.

As for the concept, I initially focused only on exhibitions. That’s why the original name was «MASA Gallery.» It was clear and straightforward, no confusion. But once I moved into this space, I realized that art alone wouldn’t be enough. First of all, you can’t really make a living from it — at least not with my level of knowledge and resources. Then we hosted a few concerts, and people came. I saw that they were genuinely interested in music. So I decided to try hosting concerts more often.

I wrote to every musician I knew — not a long list — but a few said yes. Some played once or twice, and people began to show up. Then came the moment when Markus Vilenski played here — tickets were €20, I sat people down on folding chairs and served them warm champagne. That’s when I realized it was a fiasco — you simply can’t do it that way. It was terrible.

However, the fact that people were willing to come here, pay for concerts, and listen to their favorite musicians was truly amazing. It meant I needed to improve the space — to make sure people could sit comfortably, have something nice to drink, and feel like they’d want to come back.

After that, I began developing the bar, and the overall concept expanded. That’s when the name also changed, and we added the second part — «culture bar.» The problem was that, at first, it was only art, but then events and the bar emerged.

The general name is now «MASA Studio.» It brings everything together — this physical space and also projects I organize outside of it. This space at Elizabetes Street 67 is divided into two zones: the gallery and the culture bar. So we have MASA Gallery and MASA Culture Bar. But together, it’s all under MASA Studio.

Right, so the space is divided into three small zones. When you enter, you arrive in a bright room with paintings, then there’s a dark tunnel with the bar, and finally a dim, charming room where live music takes place. Sounds like this all happened unintentionally?

Yes. In fact, I was initially looking for a space for a gallery and artist studios. I planned to organize exhibitions and rent out rooms to artists. But when I arrived here, I realized it couldn’t be any other way. This part would be the gallery, with a couple of studios, and then the other room — well, maybe for events. At that point, I didn’t have any thought of live music or a bar. It simply hadn’t crossed my mind, since I’d never done anything like that and hadn’t imagined it as part of a gallery.

I created the zoning because the first room had to be a gallery. A gallery shouldn’t have chairs and tables; people don’t eat or drink there — it’s purely for showing art, and nothing should distract from that. So that space is bright, with exhibition lighting. Then I designed the next area to be for «something else» — some events, though I didn’t yet know what they would be. Over time, I understood what those events should be, what kind of music to play, and what kind of drinks to serve. At first, I thought it would be lectures, masterclasses, but that didn’t work out. It took almost a year and a half to understand what kinds of events were needed here and what would attract people.

Is it a secret or not a secret that this space used to be a strip club — and you’ve even kept some things from the previous tenants?

It’s no secret! We inherited a giant mirror and the stage beneath it. There’s still a hole where the pole used to be. And of course, the red couch. Everything else we redid completely. The space was in terrible condition — I don’t even want to remember what it looked like. I got a good offer on the rent, scraped together the deposit, borrowed money from anyone I could, paid it, and then sat down thinking, What have I gotten myself into? I had given away all my money, and the place needed a complete renovation: new furniture, new equipment — basically everything.

So I made a post on Instagram, saying: «Look, friends, if anyone wants and can, come help.» My mom brought paint and tools. People came, willing to give their time and energy to help me! In two months, we somehow managed to make the place usable. It was still empty and plain, practically no furniture, but it was a start. Over time, I bought more furniture and decorations. Someone lent me speakers, which are still here. Another person brought something else. A pianist even bought a piano and brought it here so that he could play in his free time — and I could use it for concerts.

This whole place was built not on a commercial basis, but really on friendship, partnerships, and mutual care. People saw how passionate I was about this idea, and they wanted to be part of it.

The gallery has been open for more than a year already, right?

Almost two. On Elizabetes Street, it’s been nearly two years, but I’ve been organizing exhibitions for four years.

And when did the studio officially open?

February 10, 2023.

You mentioned that you mainly focus on jazz and contemporary, experimental, and creative music. Do you have a vision for curating these music nights so that they connect, or do you simply try to fill them with creative music?

My idea is this: the music I like is the music I can sell. Because if I don’t want a style or a musician’s work, then I simply won’t be able to sell tickets to their concert. I’ve already noticed that. If I don’t feel it, no one comes. This applies to exhibitions, events, lectures, and everything in between. If I don’t feel like this is something I would attend, or something my friends would attend, then my audience senses that too, and no one shows up. Of course, sometimes people don’t show up even to something I consider excellent — but that’s another story altogether.

Since you created everything in this space with your own hands, would you say there’s a part of you left here even when you’re not around? A particular «imprint» of your being — but let’s leave it to visitors to come, search, and guess for themselves!

Yes. I’m very close to the idea that I’m just like everyone else. Even if I’m the owner of this space, I still clean here, paint the walls, stand behind the bar, and talk with people on the same level. Sharing myself and being close to visitors is very important to me. I want people to feel at home, to come in and feel like we’re friends, to sense that connection with me and know that they’re always welcome here.

But this «imprint» is actually quite funny — it just happened that I once posed as a model for the sculptor Richard Plint, and I decided it would be cool to hang one of his pieces here. No one would know it’s me unless they ask. That makes it fun, and when they find out it’s me, it creates a closer bond.

The next installation will be my boots. Truly legendary boots. They’ve been through all the renovations in every gallery I’ve ever worked in. They’re covered with paint, primer, my sweat, blood, and tears. I’ll call them «the gallerist’s boots,» so people can see how labor-intensive this is — and even try them on to feel what it’s like to be a gallerist.

This is my installation, my art performance — a way to tell people the story of how all this was created, my story. Because I don’t have formal training, no higher education at all. That’s not something to be proud of, since in the art world, people often don’t take you seriously without a degree. However, at the same time, I want to demonstrate that if you feel it, if you know what you’re doing and have a clear goal, then education helps — it makes you more competent and confident. Nevertheless, other factors can shape success and recognition.