The tapestries reflect the current incoherent mental landscape, where various protection mechanisms help to withstand harsh news about disappearing species and ecological disasters that are raging everywhere. It is difficult to bear the guilt of Western man for conquering and destroying the earth. At the same time, keeping the Earth viable depends on homo sapiens' ability to admit that they are a small and relatively useless part of the complex natural
system.
The imagery of the works aims to reach beyond the normal of this moment to a better future.
The works are made using embroidery and felting techniques on old hand woven traditional raanu- tapestries,
which were probably made in the 70s and 80s. The works show the human-centered world in which, in contrast to everyday reality, other animals and organisms have appeared to join.
The visual language of the works is lending experimentally the means of building new worlds of soviet avant-garde, adapted according to my own view and updated for the 2020s reality. The seven felted and embroided raanus were completed during 2021-22. Embroidery technique used in raanus is respecting the figurative language of weaving. Felting allows the production of painted like surfaces.
Updating the raanus into works of art corrects the perception of them being stuffy and old-fashioned textiles.
It is possible to change mental images and reality.
The next few years will show what kind of chain reactions, recessions or aspirations towards a more sustainable future the
human species accustomed to the cozy fossil utopia will produce with the ongoing energy crisis.
Will we get to bid farewell to the fossil utopia?
describes the impact of climate change on Finland's winter and Finnish identity, which has been built largely on northern nature and coping with winter. Is the snowy white on the Finnish flag no longer true in the coming decades? What kind of chasm opens up with the disappearance of the symbols and soul landscape of Finnishness, and the change in living conditions and the environment?
On the surface, it seems that the change or disappearance of winters is not a major or official concern. Finns and people in general are such adaptable creatures that even the abnormal quickly begins to feel normal. Have there ever supposedly been decent winters in southern Finland?
Winter continues in the indoor ski centres, ice rinks and ski resorts. If one is haunted by the dark snow-free abnormality, it is always possible to fly to the other side of the world to escape the dark, uncomfortable season.
For decades, Finland and other Western societies have lived in a utopia made possible by fossil energy, where swift movement and over-consumption are considered normal and where mountains of food and goods are shipped from the other side of the world. Luminescence, the diurnal cycle and seasons are under human control. In a 24/7 society, it doesn’t matter if it is day or night, the lights are on, the internet is working; everything works. At the same time, there is still talk of the Finns' particularly close relationship with nature, which is probably a thing of the past.
In addition to everyday life, the unrealistically omnipotent world of fossil utopia has also been reflected in winter sports. Hockey in particular is a huge business in itself and the links between the sport and the economy and politics are numerous. Hockey is a kind of extension of the Winter War, a patriotic battle, also for its terminology. Admittedly, it is also played absurdly in areas where ice has never been seen under normal conditions and teams fly around the world from one match and rink to another.
Perhaps natural winters will still return after several generations; if a sensible international climate policy is now pursued and climate change can be contained within reasonable limits. Maybe the golf current will change unpredictably and the North will cool down despite climate change, at least for a while. Despite the current cost, Finland's winter and four seasons live on as persistent mythical beliefs, at least in Christmas cards and in the decorations of the public spaces of shopping malls.
Hämeentie is one of the main streets in Helsinki. It is a long gray road, full of cars, not really pleasant pedestrians either.
For some reason I have lived next to it for several years, passed many hours on it in different busses.Hämeentie has had a big impact on me.
The undoubted heart of Hämeentie is Kurvi (the Curve), legendary place with the all variety and complexity of life.
explores the ugliness and beauty of decay by combining two manifestations of architecture and urban environments that are separated by eras and shapes and that have grayness and patina in common.
Some of the works feature the appearance of the 1970´s of my everyday environment, Itä-Pasila in Helsinki 2014; patterns formed by mold and slush, the architects´ perspective arrangements possibly based on quadrilaterals and gaps, shot from the human perspective.
Those works are counterbalanced by the Parisian Georges Cain Park´s stone statues marinated in acid rain and moss that I have observed a few months in the past couple of years and that still feel human and comforting despite of being very old and ragged
How does one observe a certain urban environment, after have lived there 20 years or just one year or one week?
Is it only normal to walk a familiar route without seeing anything,
really to be blind in the every day environment and on the other hand, to be extremely alert in a unfamiliar city?
What characterizes places that are important, on a personal, emotional level?
