Estonian Art 1' 2003


	Do the Casinos have Something to Say?
	Leele Välja



	On the subject of casino architecture, one must first of all state that there are no buildings in Tallinn that were specifically built to be used as casinos. There are only premises adapted to suit casinos as a result of renovation. Maybe this makes the picture worse than it actually could be. A casino's exterior design always tends to be more aggressive and more ignorant than the surrounding buildings with different functions. In the midst of grey and drab dormitory suburbs, this is naturally not a problem - in such places there is a shortage (rather than an abundance) of dominant features - but in a more compact urban environment it presents a sore sight.

	Olympic Casino - the elegant logo (however, the casino's blue lettering delivers it a mortal blow) and sparse modest lights on the cornice are quite metropolitan. Still, the multitude of vertical letters and chains of light clearly show a lack of discretion - the result is too much noise, and not a single message really gets through.

	Kristiine casino - here the hopelessly addicted gamblers empty their wallets - at least this is what the exterior suggests.

	Monte Carlo in the former Astoria Restaurant- sadly cannot use Aleksander Vladovsky's splendid interiors to its advantage, but tries instead to create a new splendour with brass, red posts and casino equipment. Pearls before swine...? Same building outside - theoretically the excess can be interesting, in practice the result tends to be, more often than not, hopelessly banal.

	Play-in - cheap tin shed in the suburbs that stands out for its especially garish colours and aggressive design. The message is clear enough.

	Köler street casino - it is impossible to decipher the name on the hotchpotch sign. The elegant and well-renovated building flaunts a cheap railway-station roof in front that ruins the dignity of the establishment. The result would have been better had the owner relied on historical examples and employed today's best designers.

	A casino owner is naturally keen to make his establishment as visible and attractive as possible. On the other hand, his (or his designer's) lack of imagination and run-of-the-mill approach never cease to amaze. It is most likely that a casino's flashing lights primarily attract those who have already developed a taste for that sort of pastime, but let a specialist in another field tackle the ethical aspects of this business. With these customers, there is consequently no need to use the crudest and most aggressive manner of advertisement here to make a point. Be it a neurotically flashing display of lights, aggressive sound or shrieking colours. Most of the time, all together! To crush a casino owner's simplistic view (that this approach is the most effective), one would need to cite a reliable sociological research project carried out among the casino visitors. This not being available, we can only rely on common sense. People who are not keen on a particular service, find banal and obtrusive advertisement irritating and repulsive; those who are already entrapped, do not need it at all. Therefore it only serves to lure new, hesitating clients or teenagers. Considering the risk of addiction and its results, such advertisement ought to be treated in the same way as alcohol and tobacco adverts.

	The above tackled the problem from the point of view of the seller-consumer-advertising triangle. I would actually like to examine urban space and the aesthetic environment. A bad shop sign/advert/etc. mostly affronts the eye of people with a developed sense of aesthetics, whereas a loud advert with harsh blinking lights and questionable design jars on the sensibilities of every passer-by. It is thus primarily a question of influencing a city's aesthetic and architectural space (which should concern all citizens and not just people who own property in the immediate vicinity). But the interest of a casino owner to inform every single passer-by of his establishment, is that in itself a good enough excuse to defile the urban environment? In that case the same rights should be granted the neighbouring shoe shop and restaurant chain. What would be the outcome? Everything would be slightly different if we dealt with a whole so-called street of entertainment, being a congregation of noisy establishments, offering various pleasures that gobble up your money at remarkable speed. Be they casinos, night clubs, striptease bars or the like.

	What makes the whole thing complicated is that more often than not the casinos try to inveigle themselves into worthy architecture and the old town. This, however, luckily leads to more opportunities to restrain them. At this point, the casino owner starts wringing his hands and explaining that if he is only allowed to hang up one sign (rather than three) this would mean imminent bankruptcy. At the same time, such requests clearly show how far our casino culture stands from its idols. Casinos and gambling venues are usually associated with the splendour of Las Vegas or Monte Carlo: plush dark red carpets, fragrant aromas and gorgeously dressed ladies. That kind of setting has style, and provides you with an opportunity to lose your money in style. Here in Tallinn it all looks rather plastic and homespun like the Soviet-era artificial flowers. The entire design, both exterior and interior, is evidence that professional help is very seldom sought, and even when it is, then very little effort seems to have been put into it. If the law requires that windows must be covered, any pictures at all - regardless of motif - are just glued to them. Nobody has suggested velvet curtains or some other, innovative solution. The designers hardly ever bother to consider a building's particular features in order to use them to the best advantage. Quite the opposite - with persistent tediousness the same logo is fitted on a suburban tin shed and a dignified limestone house. The idea that it is possible to retain the overall design concept and, using various materials, achieve totally different (fitting different contexts as well) results, seems never to occur to the designers. In addition, there is no unity of theme in the style. The red carpet at the Köler street casino in Kadriorg seems ready to receive a slender high-heeled lady stepping out of a limousine any moment, but a roof reminiscent of a provincial railway station ruins all the beauty of the setting.

	One can say in conclusion that the entire Tallinn casino industry seems to be driven by one wish - the more extreme the better. Alas, the more cheaply too. The means and materials used suggest that the establishment is not out to attract a respectable and wealthy person who could spend some quality time there, but rather is trying to ensnare an uncertain and hesitant youngster who hopes to win a fortune. Simple-minded working-class Finnish pensioners seem to belong to the same category. So - is it absolutely necessary that the banal fireworks designed to entrap the unfortunate souls must wreck our urban space? The idea to have a street of red lanterns and casinos could be something worth considering - both from the point of view of urban space and the ordinary citizen.


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