A brief greeting or a glance at an event, a professional nod at a press conference, an exchange of contacts on Messenger – although Skirmantė Javaitytė and I have known each other for several years, working in the same field of cultural journalism, in the same city (and collaborating with the same editorial office in the capital), our communication until now has been very limited.
However, I follow her work because it is interesting to read or hear how Skirmantė, who was this year awarded the Stasys Lozoraitis Prize “On the Road to the Lithuania of the President of Hope”, perceived an event I attended, or what new things she discovered or visited that I did not manage to see myself. It pushes me to do better. Moreover, the more diverse reflections there are, the more interesting and beneficial it is for the culture of Kaunas itself. Yet, getting a colleague to talk is a challenge. Why are journalists, even those recognised and awarded for their work, so modest?
Skirmantė, I first saw your name on the “Kas vyksta Kaune” portal, and for several years now we have both been contributors to the “LRT Klasika” radio programme. Where did your journey in cultural journalism begin?
I studied Lithuanian Philology at Vytautas Magnus University, then Journalism. After completing my Master’s degree, I started working for the “Kauno alėja” portal. My first teacher was Kristina Kučinskaitė-Grudienė. I still follow the values she instilled in me – how to approach people, what respect for an interviewee means, and so on. Later, I worked for the newspaper “XXI amžius” and the magazine “Moters psichologija”. Also, interestingly, I worked behind the scenes for several seasons on the LRT television show “Tėčio reikalai”, alongside my colleague from Kaunas, Andrius Baranovas, who now also creates reports for “LRT Klasika” programmes.
This year marks ten years since I started writing for the “Kas vyksta Kaune” portal. Admittedly, with a break. For part of that time, I worked with news, managed the Facebook page, and formulated headlines. But I realised that the negative flow and crime stories were having a bad psychological effect on me. I spoke with the manager, Vaidas Pilkauskas, and together we decided that I could take over the culture section, which had previously received little attention on the portal. That is how it started – we prepared projects to fund series of articles, and I began to specialise in the interwar period. Various buildings, personalities, images… So, since roughly 2011, I have settled in culture.
You mentioned a break – from journalism?
Yes, for a while I worked as a copy editor in the events department of the Ąžuolynas Library, but I also got involved in organising and contributed texts to a publication. Libraries are my love. I like to visit them when I travel – whenever I visit a new city, I always stop by the library and the church. I believe that if a library is operating in a town or village, it means culture is alive there. In the capital, I really like the Adam Mickiewicz Library; it is closest to the Chapel of the Gates of Dawn, Our Lady of Mercy.
Where are you from originally?
I am from Šakiai – or rather, a suburb of Šakiai, the village of Giedručiai. I have lived in Kaunas for about 20 years, but you can still hear it in my speech, especially on the radio. I say – fine, as long as the Zanavykai dialect doesn’t disappear; I myself am happy to hear dialects on air.
How do you understand your mission – why does society need cultural journalists? Do you ever question your choice when you see that mundane, fast-paced, or crime topics receive much more interest than a special personality or place you’ve discovered?
Perhaps it is a higher power? In 2018, I went through a major crisis, I was between life and death, and that’s when my perspective on journalism and life in general shifted. I realised that I must only do what is meaningful – to inspire others with the bright things I notice. The question of meaning… You know, I do sometimes waver when I see that the number of clicks differs ten times over. But it feels good to know I am not alone. Especially since the start of the cultural community protests and the movement for free speech. Here, I am among my own, among like-minded people, and I see that they are not giving up.
Did you end up in radio while searching for more meaning?
I always have to be learning something, otherwise I start to stagnate (she smiles). I have completed guide courses and all sorts of others. When I felt like I was just standing still in journalism, I realised I either had to change jobs or learn more. I thought about cultural heritage, a PhD… Eventually, I discovered studies at the Lithuanian Journalism Centre in Vilnius, my favourite city. My interest in radio was sparked by Edvardas Kubilius; he spoke so passionately about it, and then Jolanta Kryževičienė presented cultural journalism in a very interesting way. But they said negatively: “You won’t work as cultural journalists anyway, you won’t go into radio, we’re just giving you this lecture for the sake of it.” I thought: “Why not?” Perhaps that’s what intrigued me – the idea that nobody goes into it. I introduced myself to Jolanta after the lecture and said I would like to try. And so I began.
Of course, I was nervous; I had to get used to the sound of my voice and the technical nuances. My relatives started listening, even though I didn’t advertise it much. But overall, radio opened up the depth of journalism – how you can influence, vary, and create emotions not just through text, information, and words, but also through your voice. I felt a sense of fulfillment. I remember preparing a story about the “Let’s Celebrate the River” initiative. I was standing by the Nemunas and thought: “Wow, Kaunas is so wonderful, such a fantastic city, how good it is that I can tell people about it on the radio, where the audience is so wide.” Professional fulfillment!
(Photographer Donatas asks) It often feels as if the field of culture speaks to people who almost don’t need to hear it. Like in the protests – the people who show up are those who already understand each other. But how do we reach the others? Or are some simply born more sensitive to their environment than others?
I am for free will in choosing content. Of course, I notice that culture news on “Kas vyksta Kaune” gets fewer comments than others, and most of them are from people surprised that there is something interesting happening in Kaunas. Perhaps we need to bring culture to people more actively, expand our professional boundaries, and interview all sorts of characters, not just artists at exhibitions. Then they will say: “Look, they interviewed my neighbour.”
We are talking on the eve of the Day of Language, Press Recovery and Books. You mentioned that you graduated in Lithuanian Philology – does that mean the beauty of language is important to you?
Very much so. I check the State Commission of the Lithuanian Language (VLKK) website almost every day, and I mark the accents on my radio reports before recording them. Of course, we live in rushed times and mistakes are inevitable, but we cannot give up. I think it would be useful for everyone who writes to regularly take a refresher course in editing.
What should the role of a journalist be today, while defending free speech once again? You work for a private media outlet, and not all of them support the protests led by the Culture Assembly and the Association of Professional Journalists.
A threat to the public broadcaster eventually becomes a threat to others. Participating in the protests, I feel that this is the true, living state. However, I want to do more than just observe the situation; I want to actively contribute to preserving LRT. Although the Vilnius team is fighting most actively, I belong to the Society of Lithuanian Journalists, so we also have our say. Through letters to politicians, official appeals, or simply by being physically present at protest sites, we try to defend professional values. Every person there is important. It wasn’t hard for me to go to Vilnius and participate in person – watching everything remotely is simply not enough. For now, the situation looks sad; sometimes it’s even hard to believe that such things can happen in our country.
What do you think, if active military action began in Lithuania – would you stay in journalism or choose another mission?
My position is clear: I would stay in Lithuania. I am in the military reserve, which carries an obligation. But not just that. However, if the war no longer required cultural journalism, I would see myself in medicine. I have completed specialised first aid courses and volunteered in hospitals. I think I could help as a sister of mercy – nursing, providing psychological help. I couldn’t kill or hold a weapon in my hands.
You mentioned the Society of Lithuanian Journalists. This year, you became the laureate of the Stasys Lozoraitis Prize “On the Road to the Lithuania of the President of Hope”, awarded by the society. Could you tell us more about how this organisation differs from, for example, the Lithuanian Journalists’ Union?
Yes, it is an organisation with history. During the interwar period, the Union and the Society operated as one structure, but later their paths diverged. After the restoration of Independence in 1991, the Society of Lithuanian Journalists was re-established as an independent organisation. It established the Stasys Lozoraitis Prize and joined international journalist communities. I personally had to work on updating the Code of Ethics for Journalists and participate in various commissions. We bring journalists together to work ethically and professionally, and we provide a sanctuary if they experience attacks. It is an organisation where you can lean on your colleagues.
How does it feel to be recognised by your colleagues?
To be honest, the feeling was twofold, even a bit daunting. I felt as if I were watching myself from the outside. Just a few days before the award, slanderous information about me appeared in the public sphere – it was a politician’s fight against the portal I work for, but it affected me personally. It was so difficult that I considered not going at all, perhaps asking to be given the award privately in a small chapel… But later I pulled myself together: you cannot give up. When they placed that traditional woven sash on me, I felt an even greater obligation to be professional and brave enough to touch upon themes that often remain on the sidelines. Cultural journalism shouldn’t be elitist and concentrated in the centre – after all, there are districts, suburbs, and villages too.
And whose opinion about your work is most important to you?
Probably the lecturers I learnt from and who shaped me as a professional. And, of course, my mother. That award is partly dedicated to her – she is very happy about my achievements. But the opinion of ordinary people is also important.
Where do you best rest and find inspiration?
My rest often has a hint of pilgrimage. I like visiting churches and being in nature where there are no people. I recharge best while walking alone in the forest. Also, my little piece of heaven on earth is the Palendriai Monastery. Everything falls into place there. Those Gregorian chants, the peace… It helps you catch an entirely different rhythm of life.
I am a person of faith. After the crisis I experienced, I returned to Christianity, although before that I went on a long journey of searching: I was an atheist, I was interested in anthroposophy, Krishnaism, Buddhism, and I practised ten-day Vipassana meditation. All those esoteric experiences were interesting, but eventually, I found peace here.
Science also draws me. For example, I closely followed the Artemis mission to the Moon – I watched the rocket fly, I was interested in daily life in space. It is very important to me that a woman is participating in this mission. In my work, I also try to write more about women, as they are still often insufficiently noticed in cultural history.
Perhaps your spiritual searches helped form that open gaze which, in journalism, helps to “unlock” interviewees?
I was always curious, although sometimes that curiosity is even exhausting (she smiles). My searches certainly expanded my boundaries. I grew up in a small village and held rather conservative views. Journalism and travelling through different experiences taught me to accept all kinds of people, even those whose values do not align with mine. You start to tolerate the other person more; you realise that the world is changing and there must be room for everyone in it.
Are there interviewees you like to return to – or places you enjoy visiting again and again? Or do you prefer to discover new territories every time?
It is always good to return to the Art Deco and Amsterdam School museums, and to participate in the “Let’s Celebrate the River” initiatives. But, of course, I am always looking for something fresh, for hidden gems. It gets harder with the years, but sometimes I meet a hero just by chance while walking – for example, a musician who worked in the theatre for many years and now plays on the street. Or a person who suffered burns over 85 per cent of their body – when he tells me how he lives, how happy he is (perhaps even happier than I am), how he travels the world and creates his life… those stories enrich me. I say, this is a dream profession. The readership might not be huge, but we become wealthier through acquaintances, people, and experiences. It feels like you can live a thousand lives this way. So many experiences… Sometimes I even need a few days to recover, but it is definitely worth it.
