"We speak in sign language". Folklorist Beatrice Kapuste on the commercialization of John and the witch gene

In recent weeks, Latvian folklorist Beatrice Kapustė has sparked significant debate over the commercialization of traditional celebrations during the summer solstice, known as Jāņi. This festival, deeply rooted in Baltic folklore, traditionally involves rituals meant to honor nature, protect against evil forces, and ensure fertility and prosperity. However, Kapustė argues that modern practices have shifted away from these ancient customs, transforming them into spectacles driven more by profit than cultural preservation.

Kapustė’s concerns stem from the increasing number of commercialized events associated with Jāņi, which she believes dilute the spiritual significance of the occasion. These include everything from mass-produced decorations and themed parties to elaborate performances that prioritize entertainment value over authenticity. She highlights how elements such as the "ragana" gene—symbolizing witchcraft and the supernatural—are being manipulated for aesthetic appeal rather than respecting their historical and symbolic meanings.

The discussion around this issue has been amplified by a recent performance titled “Jāņu nakti darināju,” which was staged as part of a larger cultural event. The performance featured dancers and musicians attempting to recreate traditional Jāņi rituals, but critics argue that the presentation leaned heavily on visual spectacle rather than adhering strictly to the customs passed down through generations. Photos from the event show participants adorned in elaborate costumes, yet some observers feel that these representations lack the depth and reverence once associated with the festival.

Beatrice Kapustė emphasizes that the essence of Jāņi lies in its connection to nature and the community's collective memory. Rituals such as lighting bonfires, wearing flowers, and performing dances were originally intended to invoke protection and blessings from deities and ancestral spirits. Today, however, many of these traditions are reduced to mere props used to attract tourists and generate revenue. She warns that without a genuine understanding of these customs, the festival risks becoming a hollow imitation of itself.

The controversy surrounding the commercialization of Jāņi has also drawn attention from other cultural experts and historians who share similar concerns. Some point to the broader trend of commodifying folklore in Europe, where traditional festivals are increasingly marketed to international audiences. While this can help preserve certain aspects of culture, it often comes at the cost of authenticity and local participation. Others, however, argue that modern adaptations can serve as a bridge between tradition and contemporary life, allowing younger generations to engage with their heritage in new ways.

Reactions to Kapustė’s comments have been mixed. Many local residents appreciate the efforts to keep Jāņi alive through public events, even if they are more performative than ritualistic. They see these gatherings as opportunities to celebrate national identity and bring communities together. On the other hand, purists within the folkloric community remain skeptical, insisting that true cultural continuity requires adherence to established practices rather than reinvention for the sake of popularity.

Looking ahead, there appears to be growing interest in finding a balance between preserving traditional customs and embracing modern interpretations. Cultural organizations and local authorities are beginning to explore initiatives that aim to educate the public about the deeper meanings behind Jāņi rituals while still making the festival accessible and engaging for all age groups. Whether these efforts will succeed in reconciling tradition with contemporary expectations remains to be seen, but the conversation initiated by Beatrice Kapustė has undoubtedly brought much-needed attention to the evolving role of folklore in today’s society.