E.L. Wisty's World Domination League

The past month

2011-05-09T00:21:00.000+03:00

Finally, an update. About time. Some glimpses:

A sunday in April:

"Yesterday was a good day,
of wandering on sun-kissed city streets,
a man bicycling by, whistling a merry tune,
sun-warmed asphalt and stone walls radiating heat"

A sunday in May, very much similar as above but warmer still, about +20 C and blazing sun. Also a contrasting mood:

"In the metro, a sad sight on this brilliant day - yet, tragically, not an unusual one: two alcoholics, a man and a woman, their features degraded by years (decades?) of alcohol abuse so that they look almost identical, as if they were twins. Ages: impossible to guess. The woman drones on and on about a horse - I get the vague idea that it may be a childhood memory - her words intercepted with frequent expletives."

Quite enjoyable recent developments: my brother and sister-in-law encouraged me to join the list of assistant writers for the University of Helsinki magazine. The people in this list can sign up for journalistic "gigs" - go listen to a seminar or whatever the task might be and write a short news item (of c. 1500 characters) for the magazine. I had my first gig a week ago and enjoyed the experience a lot. My brother gave me a frank review, and it was fun to learn the difference between academic writing and the style of writing required in a publication which popularized science. I've got the next gig this coming week already. Very much looking forward to it! Not only is this enjoyable but it also gives CV merits in freelance writing which I aspire to have.

Starting from next week I'm going to be otherwise busy, however, as I'm beginning the summer university computer science studies which I plan to complete by the end of this summer.

More upsetting news in the country: the rightwing, "immigration-critical" (that's what they call themselves) populist party PS (True Finns) became the third largest party in April's parliamentary elections, with 19% of the votes. This means they will definitely get in the government. Worst of all, their worst racist was appointed head of the parliamentary committee in charge of immigration issues. This guy has opinions like: an individual's human value should depend on how instrumental he/she is to the society. That's practically fascism. I couldn't believe my eyes when I read the news. The only good side in this situation is that the PS don't really have a consistent programme: very typically for populist parties they just promise whatever people want to hear. It's easy to shout out things in the opposition but being in the government is a much more difficult deal.

Ok, a part of the fault lies in the traditional parties' failure to deliver, but I still can't believe 19% of Finns are moronic enough to vote for PS. Not EVERYONE of the party's representatives is a raving racist but a great percentage of the supporters definitely is. And it's another thing I can't believe: why is it so easy to get people to blame the easy targets for their problems? Unemployment? Temp jobs? Economic uncertainty? It MUST be the fault of all those immigrants who come here and steal our jobs!

Some personal success

2011-04-02T11:17:00.000+03:00

Oops, and a full month has passed since I last blogged. I've had a lot to do lately and not really anything to blog about. I received some very exciting news the other day however: a new photo sale through the photo bureau - but this time to a Finnish monthly magazine with over 700 000 readers and over 230 000 subscribers. Good as that sounded, I thought it would probably be a small picture not very prominently displayed. Of course I made my way to the closest news stand and had quite a surprise: page 7, FULL page, AND my name clearly displayed! Here is a scan of the page:

The title is 'dizzying sun!' and it's all about the spring sun and light, so I very much like the context where my picture appears. You might even say that the picture is the main thing in the piece, because there's only one other page with comments by four people about the spring.

This is really good news, not only because it's a big magazine but also because it's only one of many in the roster of a big publishing house. Since my name and the photo bureau address are printed in the picture, I'm hoping it will be effective as an advertisment for my work.

New resolve

2011-03-03T17:31:00.000+02:00

It's a very long time indeed since I've last updated my blog, but in the meantime I have found new resolve an inspiration: I have decided to go back to studying, Computer Science. I will start with the 25 study points base studies at the open university during the summer. These include the basics of Computer Science, basics of programming and databases and a practice work which involves creating a small piece of software and documenting the process. This will mean at least 40 hours/week - and they actually warn against doing all of it in one summer - but I think it's doable because I am both bright and have good concentration skills. This, with good enough grades, will enable me to apply for a decree at the uni without taking the entrance exam if that seems the right path. I am going to discuss with the Computer Science department study counsellor about the different options. An option might also be self-acquired skills rooted in the base studies, as the computer stuff is about doing rather than theory. We'll see.

Computer Science is something I'm really interested in, as I am a self-confessed computer geek and proud of it. This month, I'm taking part in the employment office's training for doctors (job-finding strategies etc) and today was the first day (two more days in March). Today already gave me lots to think about. The big thing was: they emphasized the importance of concentrating on a main focus and working for it determinedly. So, while I had the Computer Science idea before, this strengthened my resolve. During the day, I also thought about WHAT specifically I am interested in with computers. These include:

-Web and other IT solutions in historical research (e.g. databases).

-Web and other IT solutions for teaching history, the sort that make history interesting and fun for kids, kids like my elder nephew who think history is just a load of stories someone invented about things that happened a long time ago.

-Website stuff/publishing involving photography and writing.

Sense of Snow

2011-02-08T19:50:00.001+02:00

Here, a few snow pictures from one of the sunny days we've had recently here.

And here, a little video from sunday:

It's funny how the sun at this time of the year always seems so miraculous, like a rebirth even, even though I logically know that days like this do come every year, eventually.

Nothing new to report on the job front, although I was informed today that the employment office is going to arrange in March a three-day course for their customers who have PhD, on the demands of modern work life, employment strategies and such. It's going to involve not only information but home assignments, group discussions and exercises etc. which all sound useful, so I signed up. Hopefully it will meet the expectations. Otherwise pretty much as before: writing work, photography, T.S. Eliot. Quite many movies too, all not at all incidentally featuring one Mr. Firth. His latest, King's Speech, is a stunning film, not only because of his performance but all the other roles, cinematography and all aspects. One thing I didn't expect was how much humour it has. I was expecting a very straight, even a tragical drama. Firth's previous film, A Single Man by Tom Ford made an equal impression on me. I had missed it originally when it was in theaters but saw it now. Such an acting performance in this one as well. To understand this one need only to see the scene where George receives a phone call that his lover of 16 years has died in a car accident.

Those ardent, long gazes...

2011-01-28T12:02:00.003+02:00

I recently borrowed my sister-in-law's DVD box of the 1995 BBC adaptation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, and yesterday got to watching it - the first time since the series was first broadcast in the 90s. Generally speaking I'm not really into romantic films and tv shows, because when the only subject matter is the romance, there needs to be real chemistry between the leading actors. That rarely happens, I find. But I make an exception on this version of Pride and Prejudice - as well as another Jane Austen adaptation, Emma Thompson's Sense and Sensibility. Jane Austen's novels are not just about romance and girls' (and their mothers') marriage aims. They are also wonderful in their gentle humour on the manners and mannerisms of Austen's own time and in their depiction of women's lot in an era, where the only way for a woman to survive was to find a financially secure man to marry. The tv and film adaptations I mentioned capture all this perfectly. As for the romance, the chemistry is definitely there. Me, I'm a sucker for those ardent, long looks and great passions relayed in subtle and outwardly restrained gestures and expressions. And oh yes, Mr. Darcy is indeed most agreeable.

That monday feeling...

2011-01-24T13:39:00.008+02:00

On thursday, on my way to my brother's, I was delighted to find that ditch with open water. The white snow and the dark waters made such a visually exciting photographic opportunity in black and white. And: I so love having a camera that does what I want it to do.

***

I have a bit of a monday feeling of there being nothing interesting whatsoever happening. Undoubtedly the miserable weather fits the mood: wind and thick, wet snow coming from the skies. But I'd rather it be something that made it enjoyable to leave the house and make the day more interesting. If only it stopped snowing, at least. A good, long wandering around the city, that's what I'd like. Apparently, it's the sea's fault, all this snow and cloudy skies: most of it is not properly frozen, even close to the shores.

I have made some progress in the job search: so far, three schools have let me know that they'll add me to their lists of persons available for substitute teaching tasks. Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean that there'll be work: the teachers may not get ill, and let's face it, Latin isn't something that's studied by masses of students outside the universities (and not even there). But at least it's something. Summer job announcements are beginning to be available, so I'm looking into those. I already sent an application for a job at the city archives of the neighbouring town. Secondly, I noticed Summer University accepts applications for teaching tasks. Since their courses include history and Latin, I sent an application. What about gardening work in the city cemeteries? Hm... that's tricky. It can be lovely if the summer is beautiful (Yes! Even though I am not exactly famous for a penchance for physical work!). But what if it rains all the time?

Naturally, I'm also continuously looking for any university and research funding opportunities. There are four research grants to apply for by mid to late February alone. I still haven't heard of the articles but hopefully will not too long from now.

Well, if I don't get any kind of employment, at least it won't be for lack of trying!

A lovely bit of zen, and other things

2011-01-21T02:15:00.007+02:00

I had a lovely moment of zen photography today - or rather yesterday, as of the (late) time of writing this. I love it when that happens: when you find a subject that inspires you and there's that concentration. It can be quite meditative.

The zen moment was followed by a visit to my brother's. As usual, a very lovely evening - which ended in a game of Monopoly with my younger nephew. A 6-year-old's rules to any game are somewhat confusing and seem quite random - and usually are manipulated in the course of the game to always benefit the said 6-year-old. This time, for instance, I ended up in a lot owned by my nephew and was about to pay the rent required by the game rules as is right and proper, when a "guard" in the guise of a wizard appeared and I was told to pay 5 million euros immediately. Oh well, the modern Monopoly - at least this version - uses credit cards rather than cash so it hardly felt like paying.

On the same visit, I borrowed my elder nephew's massage chair - one of those things you can put on e.g. the computer chair. It gives a really good and strong shiatsu massage, so it's going to be a bliss.

I have progressed in my job search plans, in addition to sending two applications for jobs I had looked up earlier, in the way of posting an open application in the city of Helsinki recruitment pages and looking up all the secondary schools which offer Latin courses. My plan is to contact the principals to enquire whether they might accept an open application for substitute teacher tasks and such. Many of them may well get all the necessary persons for any teaching tasks from the department of classical philology of the university and they may even prefer formal teacher qualifications but it's at least worth looking into. Some of the comprehensive schools offer Latin as well, but... run away, run away! The idea of teaching comprehensive school kids going through puberty... *shiver*. In any case, I'm looking into all the options (with the aforementioned exception). I'm what I like to call a realistic optimist: I believe something will turn up eventually - but not necessarily immediately and not if I'm not active in looking for it myself.

I'll end this with a quote, for no other reason than that I love it - although the time of the night that I'm writing is the same as described in the lines.

And under the oppression of the silent fog

The tolling bell

Measures time not our time, rung by the unhurried

Groundswell, a time

Older than the time of chronometers, older

Than time counted by anxious worried women

Lying awake, calculating the future,

Trying to unweave, unwind, unravel

And piece together the past and the future,

Between midnight and dawn, when the past is all deception,

The future futureless, before the morning watch

When time stops and time is never ending;

And the ground swell, that is and was from the beginning,

Clangs

The bell.

My plans for this year

2011-01-17T13:39:00.001+02:00

Well, I did NOT get the position at the University of Oulu. Financially and in terms of the CV it's of course a disappointment, but on the other hand it means I don't have to leave Helsinki. Luckily I have found five other opportunities to apply for at the moment: two museum guide jobs (one full time, one part time), in addition to which I'm going to send an open application to the Helsinki adult education centre for teaching tasks in their Latin courses. Then there are two research grants to apply for until February 15th. The first three I'm writing the applications for this week, the two last mentioned I'm going to wait with, should either of the two articles I'm waiting to hear from be accepted.

My aim is to find SOME form of employment/source of income by April, which is when I'm due for my next control visit to the unemployment office. The money situation is not my main motivator. It's rather the desire to get rid of the control. I became exasperated with it in the past two weeks, having to try and get a hold of the owner of the photo bureau for a receipt for 36,5 euros (prior to taxes) worth of photo sales, in order to send it to the National Insurance Institution. The thing is, if you get unemployment benefits, you have to report any such income that is regarded as work income, however small, and it affects the amount of unemployment benefit they pay. The photo bureau pays photo sales to a photographer in May if the photographer's portion is at least 100 euros, and in December with any sum. Should I in the meantime collect photo sales for at least 200 euros, I can ask for payment anytime. But as it is now, I have to do the maths very carefully, because if any benefit gained from photo sales is eaten up by the reduction in the unemployment benefit, it's not really worth it to ask for payment.

My second goal for this year is to see my photo sales through the photo bureau increase so much that each individual sale will cease to feel special. Last year and the start of this year has shown promising development to that effect: six picture sales so far, four of these appearing in the sales list between November and now. I'm particularly pleased about the latest sale, which was a picture involving some artistic ambition (as opposed to being a basic documentative picture) (LINK). This desire to see the picture sales increase is not about greed or purely about the money only (although that is nice). It's the idea of gaining some income from your creative work and finding that others like your pictures enough to buy them. It's fun to see who have purchased your pictures. So far it has been private individuals, the ministry of environment, a medical journal, an advertising firm and the Helsinki Commission (Baltic Marine Environment Protection Commission).

I have also since a few months begun to participate in what photo competitions I come across if I happen to have or take pictures that are appropriate for the themes of the competition. It's a good, alternative way to try and get some visibility for your pictures, especially as pictures that might be successful in a photo competition are often different from good, i.e. sellable photo bureau photos.

A picture to make one think

2011-01-11T12:38:00.000+02:00

The handwritten sticker, found attached to the glass of a tram stop in central Helsinki, reads: "Go ahead and judge" (or "Judge away").

Who put that sticker there and for what purpose? Did someone simply think it a cool sounding phrase without a more profound purpose or was it a comment? If it is a comment, what is it about?

It could be an anti-anything statement, by someone who thinks it's completely right to judge whatever or whoever he or she doesn't approve. Perhaps it was a supporter of the True Finns party who has what the party likes to call a "critical attitude towards immigration" (in most cases amounting to not much more than 'most immigrants don't need protection, they're just here to take our jobs'). Or maybe a Christian fundamentalist who doesn't approve of gays.

Or, it could be a comment AGAINST judgemental attitudes and prejudice, prejudices about specific things or prejudice in general: prejudicial people can go on all they want, it's all just empty talk that has no power to hurt.

It could also be something personal: someone's anonymous comment about judgemental attitudes he or she had met.

What do you think it's about?

Helsinki - Two January Moods

2011-01-08T23:44:00.002+02:00

Saturday, 8 January

Thursday, 6 January

A beautiful thought

2011-01-05T00:07:00.003+02:00

Wanted to post, partly just to write it down. In reading T.S. Eliot's letters, I found this thought which I found so beautiful, in a letter that he wrote to his mother on 30 December 1917. This was about a family album of photographs that his brother Henry had taken and sent to him, and he and Vivien had had delightful time looking at the pictures and showing them to friends.

"It gives one a strange feeling that Time is not before and after, but all at once, present and future and all the periods of the past, an album like this."

Was it partly thoughts like this that came back to Eliot's mind much later in the early 1930's, when he wrote the first lines of Burnt Norton - not so much in the meaning of the lines but how to express them?

Time present and time past

Are both perhaps present in time future,

And time future contained in time past

Also, in East Coker, there is:

There is a time for the evening under starlight,

A time for the evening under lamplight

(The evening with the photograph album).

I suppose at least a part of the reason why Eliot's thought about the photograph album so delighted me is my own passion for photography.

How to Make an Igloo - the Urban Method

2011-01-04T01:49:00.000+02:00

Author: unknown - but may have been the same who elsewhere had written in snow: 'Eat porridge you brave one.' That made me smile :-)

Even poets need undergarments

2011-01-01T11:59:00.003+02:00

So I went and got the two volumes of The Letters of T.S. Eliot at the uni library. They are surprisingly thorough, some 900 pages each. I partly read, partly browsed through the first of them, a revised edition of the original, published in 2009 (I was going to say 'published last year' but we are freshly in 2011 now). It adds 200 pages to the original edition of 1988. Included indeed are several wartime (1st world war) letters of Vivien Eliot to T.S.'s mother, in which she details the state of Tom's woollen undergarments (several are in need of darning), grieves their expensiveness and tells how she all the same has been able to obtain some items of clothing. What the letters reveal is... life, getting on with life. I'm not sure what the editors' intention was with such hefty volumes. Perhaps simply to present things 'as is' rather than to create a particular kind of impression with a more selective publishing of the letters. Of course, in a different sense the volumes are NOT thorough, as Eliot burned a good part of his correspondence, for example of his student years at Harvard.

So far, I don't find the letters particularly relevant to my experience of Eliot's poetry. They neither add to nor take away from it, although they do offer some interesting background to The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock and The Waste Land (Eliot's nervous breakdown, his correspondence with Ezra Pound regarding the poem's editing). My favourites, I think, are Eliot's letters to his cousing Eleanor Hinkley, in which he at times details his 'great ten reel cinema drama' he says he is working on or relates his impressions of people and surroundings. This in Marburg, Germany, July 1914:

"Here I am, safely out of harm's way, settled in the bosom of the family of the Lutheran Pastor, and the church is right across the street. I have just been to church, and feel as good as gold. This will not be an exciting sumer, but I think a pleasant one, though I hope you will not circulate any gossip about me and the Pastor's daughter. She is named Hannah. In the evening, when we gather about the lamp, and the Herr Pfarrer takes a nap and composes his thoughts, and the ladies sew needlework, then the Frau Pfarrer says 'Ach Hannah, spiel uns ein Stuck Beethoven', ['Oh, Hannah, play us a bit of Beethoven'] and Hannah spiels for 15 minutes. Hannah also sings, and can talk a little French and English (but she hasn't tried it on me). Then we read the paper, and discuss the Balkan Question, and the difference in climate between America and Deutschland. Altogether they are aw'f'ly good people, and we all eat a great deal."

This in London, March 1915:

"Beside Belgians, there is a very pretty Miss Cobb whose mother was a Bostonian (I don't know what her name was); the mother is an odd fluttering person who is evidently looking out for her daughter, and lays compliments very thick (I know this because I have seen her laying them on to other people); she never talks to me for five minutes without bringing out Julia Ward Howe, whom she knew in Boston, and evidently considers a very illustrious person. - A very tiresome person, I should say, for all the anecdotes about her end by making her recite the 'Battle Hymn of the Republic' (like Mrs Leo Hunt[er]'s '[Ode to an] Expiring frog) which I always considered pure bombast. But Miss Cobb is very nice. Then there are the Petersens, a mother with three daughters. Unfortunately the beautiful one (really very beautiful indeed) is the younger one, aged sixteen or so; and, as in the Taming of the Shrew, the interests of the elder are consulted first. This is really a very nice girl however; she plays the fiddle and raises white rats, and we have lots in common - at least I shall have to take her punting next term. I should like English girls better if they were not so completely managed by their mothers - but perhaps it is merely that the ones I have met have been rather young."

And this in March 1917 when he started work at Lloyds Bank:

"I share an office with Mr McKnight, who lives in a suburb, cultivates a kitchen garden out of hours, polishes his silk hat with great care when he goes out, and talks about his eldest boy."

So why did I get the volumes of letters as just in the previous post I had professed that biographical details of an artist are not important? Curiosity I suppose. One thing the letters confirm is a thing familiar from most artist biographies: the road of an aspiring artist, one who seeks to make a career as an artist, has always been a rocky one, in all times of history. For several years after their marriage, T.S. and Vivien Eliot were at trouble to make ends meet. Now the general standard of living and the safety network of the welfare state may be better but it's still as difficult to make a name as an artist, even less so to earn enough for a living with one's art.

Just wondering...

2010-12-27T12:25:00.007+02:00

Something I've been wondering again, for the umpteenth time, as I've been reading T.S. Eliot... Why are so many fans unwilling to allow their idols or the persons they admire human faults and shortcomings? And why are they then so shocked and surprised when the idols then indeed turn out to have human faults? I recall during Pete's The Boy Who Heard Music - I'm using it as an example because it had a great personal significance for me - some complaining that he was at fault for doing the blog at all, because he was shattering the "mystery" of The Who. I also think that many did not take part in it at all, lest it shatter their images. Apparently, something similar happened with T.S. Eliot when biographical information came to publicity and it turned out that he was indeed very much a human with shortcomings to share. For example, I saw a customer review at amazon.com on Eliot's published letters and the review was about how very prosaic the letters of one of the greatest literary figures of the 20th century are. Oh really? What should he have written to his friends and acquaintances? Literary essays only? The idealised views of admirers, especially in the case of artists who in the public opinion are decided to be geniuses, manifest themselves not only in disappointment and surprise when the admired personages turn out to be human but also in a tendency to view everything they do and say as manifestations of their genius. To exaggerate a little, if Pete Townshend says 'I could really do with a good cup of tea', surely the cup of tea is not just a cup of tea but a profound metaphor for the universe, because he's saying it?

Methinks, if artists were superior beings, above all human faults and shortcomings, their art would be bloody boring, because they would have no understanding of humanity.

Another thing I'm somewhat puzzled about is fans' and admirers' need to know everything about the artists they admire. Not all fans/admirers have this need but quite many do. Sure, I understand that it may be a way to feel connected, to feel that you "know" your idol who is otherwise quite distant from you. But it can also lead to unhealthy forms. The biographical detail that fans know may not be reliable. What an artist says in interviews, for instance, may be vague or intentionally misleading because the artist wants to maintain his or her privacy. Many biographies are written which are based on flimsy sources and are more the writer's interpretation of the person than fact. If this kind of biographical information does not cause disappointment or shattering of dreams, it is used to construct an image which matches the fan's pre-established ideas/ideals. If the artist then does or says something that seems to deviate from the ideas/ideals which to the fans are fact, there is an outcry: how dare the artist do it? It's not what he or she is about! A case in point, The Waste Land, when published in 1922, became the "bible" of a generation, expressing its disillusionment after the war. Eliot himself was adopted as an anti-establishment, anti-authoritarian, revolutionary hero, opposed to everything jaded and old. His conversion to the Church of England in 1927 caused a violent disappointment: Eliot was supposed to have sold out to the conservative establishment. Ring a bell with how some of the later actions of certain rock figures have been viewed by many, the established view having been that in their music they claimed to be revolutionaries?

The not always reliable biographical information is also often reflected onto the artist's work. Eliot a case in point again, in his case not only with regard to the fans but also to literary scholars. And don't say the latter are an entirely different matter, because that's nonsense. Plenty of literary scholars (or art historians) specialise in a given author because they are fans. It's just that the work they produce enjoys a different position because of their academic status. But I digress. Eliot held that his poetry is not autobiographical, yet numerous scholarly studies have been written in which the writers maintain with the whole weight and authority of their academic status that 'oh yes it is, all of it.' Another example from The Boy Who Heard Music: I remember some readers who at every turn maintained that it's autobiographical and also wanted to "teach" others who did not see this, with essays (mainly from the history of The Who) on what this or that part of the text was drawn from.

Irrespective of what is true with Eliot or any other artist, in the end, does it really matter whether or not an artist's work is autobiographical? Isn't the essence of art in the thoughts and emotions and impressions it causes in the reader/listener/viewer? A conversation between the work of art and the one who enjoys it, if you will? It's a subjective, personal process, and people love a work of art, whether a pop song, a painting or a poem, for personal reasons. I'm not saying the artist's person does not matter. I'm not an artist but I am convinced that the creation of a work of art is always a subjective and personal process in one way or another: the artist makes choices of what to include and what not to include, how to express things, and so on, based on reasons that cannot be entirely separate from what he or she is as a person, his/her experiences etc. He/she is human after all. I'm also convinced that a work of art always reflects the artist's person - but not (always) in the superficial level of biographical detail but in a much deeper, and to me more relevant, way, in that it reflects his or her spirit and soul.

Well, I went on a bit again, didn't I? That's the lovely thing about blogs: it's your blog and you can go on at will, without let or hindrance. :-)

The Fire and the Rose

2010-12-23T15:53:00.002+02:00

With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this Calling

We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

Through the unknown remembered gate

When the last of earth left to discover

Is that which was the beginning;

At the source of the longest river

The voice of the hidden waterfall

And the children in the apple-tree

Not known, because not looked for

But heard, half-heard, in the stillness

Between two waves of the sea.

Quick now, here, now, always -

A condition of complete simplicity

(Costing not less than everything)

And all shall be well and

All manner of thing shall be well

When the tongues of flames are in-folded

Into the crowned knot of fire

And the fire and the rose are one.

This is the end of Little Gidding, the fourth and final poem of T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets. I had not read T.S. Eliot before, something that may be thought strange - or then not. He is of course one of the most influential figures in 20th century literature, but on the other hand, while school students in the English-speaking world would be likely to have some of the English literature greats, including Eliot, in their English classes, in Finnish schools the emphasis is on native writers (as in the German-speaking world on German authors, in France on French authors and so on). But I picked up Four Quartets at the library some time ago, motivated by hearing a radio adaptation of the Michael Hastings play Tom and Viv, about T.S. Eliot and his first wife Vivienne Haigh-Wood (the radio play itself I listened to out of a very shallow motivation: because it had Benedict Cumberbatch as Eliot - the man's got a voice you know). I went to the library to get any T.S. Eliot in original language and happened to find Four Quartets.

Now that I have read it, I find I HAVE to read T.S. Eliot and especially the Four Quartets. His poetry is not easy, but I feel I have to read it. Not because of his position in 20th century literature, but because of a kind of a hunger for the words. I don't necessarily need to read studies which explain all the references or which offer theories and explanations. More I want to read again and again, all in one or one poem or part of a poem at a time, to marvel at and follow the language and find my own meaning in the poems - or perhaps not, never entirely. Perhaps in part they will remain a mystery to be marveled and wondered about. Who knows, and I'm not sure it matters. I put in an order for an edition of Four Quartets to have it at hand whenever I want, and I suspect it will be something I will return to again and again. Never have I been more happy about how good my English is.

MERRY CHRISTMAS OR HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL!

Old and Beautiful

2010-12-20T15:44:00.007+02:00

This is my father's mother's Singer sewing machine, made in 1935 in Scotland. It's still in excellent condition and fully functional. A beautiful item, isn't it?

It's an example of the fact that in times past utility tools were cherished items that were kept well and mended if they broke. They were valued and valuable possessions. As such, the tools were manufactured to last - and they were frequently made not only functional but also beautiful to behold, like this sewing machine. This was before the mass production of consumer products eradicated that way of thinking. Now it frequently feels like products are made to last only until the warranty expires, and if they do last longer, they already feel hopelessly antiquitated - and this is frequently true with things like computers because technological development is so fast. Don't get me wrong, I don't yearn for some "good old times" when everything was supposed to be better. I quite like digital cameras, smart phones, laptops and the WWW. But I often feel it's a shame that the mentality which produced items like this sewing machine seems to be gone now.

In fact, it often feels like in the modern consumer society "good citizen" means only A) a good tax-payer and B) a good consumer. You should make sure to choose a field of study that gives you qualifications for a well-paid job and you should graduate quickly, in order to start benefiting the state in the form of the taxes you pay. If you indeed have a well-paid job, your responsibility is to consume for the wealth of the fatherland.

And the advertising industry does its best to keep people consuming and to increase consumption. Anyone who thinks the role of advertising is simply to inform customers of the availability and pricing of products they already know they need is a simpleton. If that was the case, why are children often specially targeted? Children are the easiest to influence, so if you get them hooked to your products, chances are good that they'll stay as loyal consumers. My brother mentioned an especially bad example: the hugely popular, Japanese pokemon stuff. The pokemon cartoons on TV actually have a ditty which directly tells the listeners that they have to obtain the entire range of merchandise. And if ads were simply to inform customers, why would they keep bringing out new products and items accompanied with advertising campaigns which use imagery that is designed to make the products as appealing as possible? Apple started selling the iPad in Finland a couple of weeks ago, and the advertising really annoyed me. The morning's paper was full of full-page ads by stores that sell the thing, all calling it 'unbelievable' and 'incredible' and 'revolutionary'. You could almost think that they were trying to brainwash you to believe that you actually need it!

I'm not for banning consumption. If you've got money, it's your business how you spend it. But I do think there's something not so slightly wrong in the overly emphasized consumption mentality. As always, it's particularly visible before Christmas when you can't escape ads basically telling you that you have to get our products or your Christmas will be a complete failure. I think there are many people who actually buy into it, whether or not they can afford it. It's especially true with the new, expensive gadgets. iPads, smart phones, playstation 3's and so on fill Christmas wish lists, and parents, wives, husbands and relatives feel obliged to buy them so that they are not worse than all those other people who surely have them. Many actually can't afford the things and buy on credit or with one of these 'buy now, pay after 12 months' plans (why, that almost feels like you don't have to pay at all!), and consequently are in debt after Christmas.

Christmas rant over. Hope everyone has lovely holidays, however you spend them!

My unfortunate bike

2010-12-09T17:31:00.002+02:00

...or "A Lesson in Laziness"

The thing is, the bike storage of my building is rather small. I don't know why. Maybe biking wasn't as popular in the 60s when the house was built as it is now. There used to be space in it, but then more residents bought bikes or more keen bikers moved in, one or the other. Now you have to watch out for someone to take his/her bike out before you can get yours in. I always meant to watch out for that... until the other morning I found my bicycle submerged. It's chained to the bike rack underneath the snow, too. Teaches me about being lazy, eh? The snow has reached about half a meter (1 and 2/3 ft.) and it's expected to snow some more tonight. Maybe people in Lapland will soon start travelling to Helsinki to experience proper winter!

(More) Winterly greetings

2010-12-05T19:30:00.001+02:00

Snow's so pretty in its whiteness. I have to admit, though, that in my opinion winter isn't the most interesting season photographically. Pretty as it is, it gets a bit boring when it stays for months and months. Eventually you grow weary of taking pictures that feature snow in some form or fashion. I shall have to try and use my imagination to come up with new things.

So, I have sent the application for the research position in my old university. Fingers crossed on that. Otherwise, I've fairly satisfied with my activity this year. I have one article definite in an upcoming conference book that is supposed to be in print in early 2011. Otherwise I have sent two articles for review in different major journals of the field. I should be hearing on one of them in January, regarding the other I don't know. Of course, I'll be rather glad if one of them gets accepted. ;-) But it's not easy. It's worth a try though because IF you get published, one such article is worth several in small publications.

And now, another round of Pet Shop Boys I think. I don't know where I suddenly got the urge to listen to their 80's hits. Sure, I'm an 80s kid and Pet Shop Boys are one of those bands that made up the soundtrack of the decade. But I have never owned any of their records nor did I listen to them actively as a kid. Obviously I know the biggest hits. West End Girl, Suburbia, It's A Sin, and so on. Who doesn't? Maybe it's creeping nostalgy now that I'm in my 30s? :-) Nah, they're fantastic pop songs, there's something about them that the modern pop list hits lack.

Let's take a ride, and run with the dogs tonight

In suburbia...

La la la la

Sunday picture

2010-11-28T22:01:00.001+02:00

A photography walk in the crisp, frosty, sunny -17 C followed by 40 minutes of water running and Turkish steam sauna = VERY good feeling!

Here is a set of winter wonderland pictures: LINK.

Then - Now

2010-11-26T19:43:00.003+02:00

A FEW DAYS AGO:

Can you imagine the heat and brightness of the summer sun?

Can you imagine the light sparkling on the waves?

Can you imagine the warm sand under the toes?

Can you imagine the happy screams of children as they run into the waves?

Can you imagine sitting on the beach after a swim, letting the sun dry you up - without it getting cold?

Can you imagine the ice creams and hot dogs bought at the beach kiosk?

Can you imagine it?

TODAY:

Everything is truly and properly frozen. -12 C, -17 C with wind chill. But actually I prefer it that way: winter is unavoidable, so better it be a proper winter like today than either freezing, snowless and dark or just barely above zero degrees, wet, snowless and dark. Those are the other two options for winter in Finland.

And when it got cold, the skies cleared. What a beautiful day. Cold and crisp but I didn't mind the cold at all. I was properly dressed!

November Asleep

2010-11-24T20:54:00.003+02:00

Back to Helsinki, Finland for a little while. This was a couple of days ago. The snow and the blanket of clouds made everything appear almost monochrome. A desolate feeling but oddly beautiful at the same time. On days like this, you truly see the weariness of November. The sun might, just might, come out one of these days - but only if the temperature falls below -10 C I think. Under seven hours of daylight now: the sun rises at 8.40 and sets at 3.30 pm - and a month to go until winter solstice still.

Today I've spent indoors, nursing a mild cold - but I don't mind: nasty wind and snowdrift outside. I wonder if this winter will be the same as last year? I think there was still some snow left from last year at the city snow dumps when new snow started to fall this past week. This year, for once, I managed to get moderately priced flights for the Christmas visit to my parents. Mainly it's so I don't have to sit in the train for hours, but who knows, maybe it'll turn out to be wise otherwise: last year, what with the snow and cold, the state railways had terrible trouble!

I might just end up back in the north otherwise than just for Christmas, too: my old university is looking for applicants for a three-year research post in a field that fits my research like a glove, the study of cultural interaction. I have slightly mixed feelings about it because I love Helsinki so much, but I will definitely apply because I like my old university and more importantly it would be a tremendous opportunity, not to mention a merit for the CV. The money would allow me to get back to Helsinki on weekends and holidays, too. So fingers crossed.

The sun came out briefly...

2010-11-19T21:50:00.002+02:00

It's quite amazing how light changes the appearance of things. In a certain light the stern forms of the big concrete blocks acquire a sort of impressive heftiness. The building on the left here has an almost sculpture-like quality.

Tallinn 2

2010-11-17T19:18:00.006+02:00

The Finns and Estonians may be language relatives, but one of the things that is very different between the two countries is that in Estonia looking feminine and beautiful is much more important. I suppose these hairdresser's shops are one reflection of this. These modest-looking hairdressers are everywhere in Lasnamäe. Most of the ones I've seen are like this: housed in the ground floor of the apartment blocks, with just the 'hairdresser' sign out front and opening times on the door; no windows with ads for the big hair product brands or photos of hair models. The long-time Estonian resident that I mentioned in the previous post said in one of his blogs that shops like this in Lasnamäe haven't changed much in the 20 years since the country's independence. I've never visited in any of them but from the outside I like them. They look homely in all their modesty.

And here, back to a general view, and from personal to impersonal in a way. I get a kind of a feeling of foreignness and of distance with the scale and weight of these large concrete blocks. An outsider's view I'm sure.

This intentionally edited dark and sombre. It wasn't much more cheerful in colour, though. I am aware of the fact that taking sombre pictures of a place like this runs the risk of stereotyping. The residents may not have the same view as this is their home, and perhaps a photographer should seek things that run counter to (of?) the common view of places like this as depressing. But I can't help an outsider's fascination with a place the like of which doesn't exist in my own country.

Tallinn

2010-11-16T00:44:00.002+02:00

I had booked my trip to Tallinn at the only Finnish company operating on the route, Eckerö Line. That was unfortunately a mistake: it may have been partly due to the weekend, but the ship was crowded and cramped, with very few seats - no opportunity to sit in the cafe or restaurant either, due to the crowdedness. It was difficult to find a peaceful spot: if I'd sit leaning on a wall, I'd have people jumping over my legs. On the way back I especially failed in my quest for a peaceful spot: on one occasion I had a drunken bozo - French I think - disturbing my reading with a "Hello! How ya doing??". At another occasion I was forced to listen to an older lady who was swigging from her bottle of vodka at a steady pace going on an on very loudly about how marvellously she can get along with all sorts because when her husband was alive she met all kinds of fine people. With the trip taking 3 hours in one direction, it was very tiresome. This is clearly a ferry company where the idea is to get people spend as much money as possible on board: book cabins, drink and eat at the restaurants, and shop at tax free. Next time I'll take one of the Estonian ferries, Tallink or Linda Line.

In contrast, the hotel was absolutely superb and I'll certainly book it the next time I visit. Hotel City Portus is right at the port, by one of the terminals. Fantastic value for money (without my package a single room would have cost 44 euros): wonderful service and breakfast; good rooms with excellent shower. You could even book the sauna at their top floor. I also loved the interior design which was very retro pop: red, yellow, orange, white and brown, with a poster of Madonna on the wall.

As soon as I had reached Tallinn at midday and got my room, I proceeded to buy a 24 hour ticket for the public transport (a mere 4,5 euros) and headed to Lasnamäe. The cloudy weather indeed offered a suitably different mood compared to the bright days of the summer:

Here Laagna tee, the asphalt river which runs all through the area. I read somewhere that a local train line was planned to be built to run in between the lanes but like so many other things here, it never materialized. I must say, though, that I would love to visit the area on a foggy day! Those huge concrete blocks would look fantastic enclosed in mist, I'm sure.

This is my favourite of the things I found on saturday:

Very sweet and very cool I think. :-)

I debated whether or not to stay in Lasnamäe until after dark but decided against it: for one thing the wind was chilly, but more importantly it's not necessarily a good idea to wander around there alone after dark.

It was an early night for me, because in the previous night I had in vain to get to sleep early so that I'd have enough sleep by the time I had to get up at 6 am. This time, I slept like a log and was up for breakfast at the 8 am starting time, so as to maximize time. I went back to Lasnamäe for a while, then strolled around in central Tallinn for a bit, until it was time to catch the 4 pm ferry.

Whilst waiting I had the occasion to be "proud" of Finnish Tallinn travellers again: most of the people I saw with alcohol purchases had cartloads of Finnish beer, cider and long drink which are exported to Estonia and then the Finns go buy it back. Sitting beside me in the terminal was a group of 20+ girls with similar cartloads. They were talking about how incredibly drunk they'd been the previous night and how "incredibly fucking sick" they now feel. Where is the romance of travelling in that, I ask? This is an example of why Finnish tourists don't have a good reputation in Tallin. I suppose it has got a bit better at least. I came across a blog of a Canadian man who had lived in Estonia for years and years. In one of his posts he said that 10 years ago, if you went to the Old Town, you would come across a drunk Finn at every corner. And it's not the only reference I've seen!

The ferry company and the annoying Finnish tourists notwithstanding, I again enjoyed my time in Tallinn tremendously. Next time I better book two nights, however: in summertime one night would be enough but with the sun now setting at 4 pm there just isn't enough time.

More pictures later.

The sea awaits

2010-11-12T18:25:00.000+02:00

On the evening of wednesday, after I'd got my camera back, I went to the seaside. There is something at the same time frightening and extremely beautiful in the dark, restless sea.

The sea is also otherwise relevant here, as I decided to book a little weekend trip to Tallinn. I'll be going tomorrow, staying overnight and coming back on sunday. 68 euros for the ferry + hotel is not bad. My hotel is also very handily located right by the port terminal. Judging by reviews it's excellent value, although it being weekend, I'm hoping not many Finnish drunken booze tourists will be staying there. They're predicting cloudy weather, so I'm probably going to go to Lasnamäe to see if those endless concrete blocks look different than in the summer sun.

With Canon you can!

2010-11-10T19:09:00.001+02:00

No, I haven't become employed at Canon. I do have a good reason to agree with their slogan so far, though: Canon paid for the repair and I got the camera back fixed today, after just two days! Granted, the new camera was tempting, but my old one will do just fine until such time in the future that I can invest in one of the high-range cameras. :-)

And now, let there be light:

I posted this last year, but personally I feel it's worth posting again since there isn't much of it around at this time of the year. Light, that is. Although, this was in November, so maybe there'll be a day like that again this month! Real King Arthur tales, Lady of the Lake stuff it was.

Death of a Camera

2010-11-07T15:48:00.002+02:00

A couple of the more experimental pictures that I was taking lately.

Now it's bye bye camera: my camera broke on friday. It looks likely that it's a shutter problem, and replacing the shutter costs 300-400 euros - if I can't get it done under warranty. The unfortunate thing is that the warranty expired a year ago. Consumer rights leave me a bit of leeway: it might be possible to get the job done under warranty if the shutter has died much sooner than what the manufacturer says should be for this particular camera. At an estimate I have taken about 20 000-25 000 pictures, whereas the manufacturer gives 50 000 or 100 000 (depending on the source) as the life expectancy.

To find out if I have a chance at this, I have sent email to the repair firm asking them to give some estimate (also on how long the repair would take). I have also sent a message to my insurance company to find out how much the own risk amount would be in this case.

If I can't get the repair under warranty and if the own risk amount is considerable, I need to decide whether to have the repair done all the same or to scrape the money together for a new camera. At this stage of my photography I suppose it would be sensible to upgrade. That would be about a 700 euro investment. I need to do one or the other, as I can't imagine not having a camera. You could actually say that taking photographs is part of who I am.

Dark!

2010-11-02T22:17:00.004+02:00

Yes, it gets dark early: the sun sets at 4.30pm. It would be 5.30pm except last week saw the end of Daylight Saving time. Darktime depression, here it comes... No, I don't get it (although many do, apparently). And it's not quite as dark as this in Helsinki. The picture was taken in Suomenlinna where the lighting is not so glaring and blaring. All the firepower that's put into streetlights (not to mention neon signs and everything)... mustn't let the bogeyman in from the dark!

I would like to think that I'm not afraid of the dark, and logically I'm not. I know that usually (in Helsinki at least) there are no people with evil intentions behind every tree, hiding in the dark. There are no bogeymen, monsters or ghosts. And yet... If I had to walk a longer, unlit stretch, I'd rather not linger. It's just... well, it's just so dark. I wonder if there is anyone in the glaringly lit cities - it's never really dark in the city - who feels truly comfortable in the dark? Were people before the invention of electric light more comfortable with the dark, I wonder? Are the native people in, say, the Amazon region comfortable with the dark? What I'm getting at: did all the technological advancement that pushed back the darkness with bright, bright lights bring the fear of the dark? Or is it some kind of an innate, primal fear that is perhaps biological, as humans do not have a sharp sense of smell or hearing or cat's whiskers to easily navigate in the dark without the help of eyes?

Anyway, it doesn't get any darker than in November, before the snow comes. So far I'm enjoying the new photographic opportunities that the dark (again) brings, but I'm sure I'll be hoping for the snow to come soon.

Quite active I've been: got back to swimming (or rather water running which I prefer); enjoying experimenting with the camera (sort of deconstructive gimmickry). I was going to not do anything work-wise for a while, since I sent off that article recently. But I already got an idea for a new article, so what can I do?

Some supremely enjoyable art experiences too lately.

The museum of contemporary art now has the exhibition of the candidates for the annual Ars Fennica award, and some of the works stunned me. I was particularly blown away by the video/programming work of the Scottish-born, Finland-based artist Charles Sandison, called "Words as the image of the world". This picture from an earlier exhibition gives an idea of it: a room with a mirror floor, with innumerable words (I read that it's the whole of the 1911 Encyclopedia Britannica) flowing in changing streams and formations on the ceiling and the walls, reflected in the floor. It felt like all of the nearly six billion people on this planet had been brought together in one space, all the chaos, all the languages, all the cultures. The immensity of it was almost overwhelming.

Calmer, but equally beautiful: Beethoven's piano sonata no. 3 in C: sparkling, translucent pearls of joy on the piano keys.

There I was...

2010-10-26T00:06:00.003+03:00

...inspecting the old tunnels of Suomenlinna, when suddenly...

Like with most old things, there is a ghost story connected to this place. It is about a cadet of the naval cadet school about a hundred years ago. The cadet and an officer's daughter were in love, but their relationship ended tragically in the young man's suicide, and his sorrowful spirit was left to wander along the school corridors. Reportedly, a figure wearing a military uniform of the era has been sighted in one of the class rooms of the cadet school.

Ho ho!

2010-10-21T13:37:00.003+03:00

I'm just glad because the cough didn't keep me awake last night anymore. It's back to swimming this weekend for sure!

This is a bit of experimentation, sparked by opportunity. The picture is founded on a photograph, taken of tree branches in strong wind with slow shutter speed, which was then manipulated (colour, contrast). I was actually trying to capture the violent movement of the branches in the wind, but the result lended itself better for a painting-like autumn picture. In any case I' fairly pleased.

This past monday, I just knew I had to go to Suomenlinna for photography. It always turns out great when I have such a strong feeling. Hopefully there'll be some more sunny days before the autumn colours are gone. I need to go back to Suomenlinna, because my visit on monday was cut a bit short because I had other things to do.

A lucky shot, with that bird there, coming back from Suomenlinna.

I've mainly been doing final corrections to my article so I can send it off later this week, but I also added plenty of pictures to my photo site. Next week there's another funding application to write but I'll think about that next week.

Application fun

2010-10-16T17:22:00.001+03:00

I'm not kidding or being ironic, I actually enjoyed writing an application just now.

I spotted a work ad for exhibition guides in the museum of modern art of the neighbouring town. I've visited it quite a few times and like the place, plus I'm genuinely interested in modern art, especially artists who use photography and video in their work. So, I decided to send an application.

Their requirements were an art history or art education degree or experience of similar jobs. I don't have a formal degree like that as my field was general history (although crossed paths with art history occasionally during my studies) but I actually have some work experience from a summer job, albeit a long time ago. Obviously, I emphasized my interest in art and naturally made clear my photographic ambitions, including the few sold and published photos. Gave me a chance to mention my new photo site, so that turned out to be useful very soon!

Would be a fun job to have - and ideal time-wise: it's part time, so it would leave time for research work. Money-wise not necessarily something that makes you rich but far better than the unemployment money still.

I certainly put modern technology to full use with this application: I first wrote it in my head yesterday and today (ok, technically my head isn't modern technology since I've had it for 34 years); then typed it down on my phone while out on town (for those with iPhone, go for AwesomeNote); just now I copied it to Open Office, wrote also the CV, saved both in pdf and sent off in email (they expected applications via email only).

Grrr, if only my cold got better soon. I've had it for the past week. No fever but a sniffle and a hell of a cough, with the voice still down. I was so enjoying the swimming which I took up again only last weekend.

New photo site

2010-10-11T23:49:00.002+03:00

I have today started a new photo site. The address is:

http://www.wix.com/marianiku/photography

I figured it might be a good idea to have a designed portfolio site that looks like me if/when I need to/have a chance to show someone what my photography work is like.

Koos dug up the service for me, thank you Koos!

Update, finally

2010-10-08T18:23:00.000+03:00

I started working on my pictures, to see if I can get some uploaded in the photo bureau I'm a member of. A randomly selected picture from that - a bit melancholy but somehow I like it.

The picture doesn't match the early October days so far, luckily. It seems like every day until today has been sunny and beautiful. Now cloudy. I'm having a week or so free time after a very busy stretch. I finally got the article I've working on finished and sent to my friend for proofreading.

Also my mother visited for a week which was nice. Last weekend grandma and two aunties took the nephews to a kids' activity centre in the city, an underground hall with bouncy castles, game machines, a "jungle track" etc. I sure got my excercise following the almost-six-year-old, climbing crawling in pipes on my knees and bouncing. Both nephews obtained a 'slimy hand', a hand made of some sort of slimy rubber that sticks everywhere when you throw it. Consequently, it took rather a long time to get out of the underground hall and across the market square to the McDonald's to eat. It's funny how things that little boys (or little and slightly older boys) find really cool invariably seem rather gross to grown-ups. :-) Monday, my sister's birthday, we and our mother had lunch at this vegetarian restaurant which always has fantastic food and where the pricing is per kilos: you take as much as you want and go to the counter where they charge you for how much your plate weighs. Then on tuesday further celebration on account of sister's birthday: we three, plus my brother, sister-in-law and nephews took a little trip to one of the outdoors areas in eastern Helsinki. We grilled sausages in one of the camping spots and then ate mocha pie on the rocks by the sea, watching the sunset. One of the pieces of the pie appropriately got to serve as a birthday cake, with a lit candle. Such a lovely little outing.

I also managed to get in the obligatory control visit - to keep the unemployment money running - to the employment office on monday, and that sure was troublesome. I got there at 11 am and there were 40 people in front of me in the queue, so it took three hours. I would have needed to come wait outside the door before opening time to get in first. They don't have a appointment system, and I felt sorry for the young mother at the reception, asking if they couldn't give her an appointment because she's a single mother with a baby, lives in eastern Helsinki and it's really difficult for her to arrange the time to come to office in central Helsinki. All she got was, "sorry, there's nothing we can do, you'll just have to work out something to get here early." At least they gave her more time.

I'm glad I got that done - and that the next visit isn't until April. I'm REALLY hoping I'll get the research grant that will be decided on sunday or the other one I applied for that will be decided on November 6th, so I won't have to go to the employment office for at least a month.

When my friend gets the proofreading done there'll be more work to do the corrections and do the formatting etc for whichever journal I'm going to send the article done. There's also two more funding applications to do this month. But for at least until the 15th, I'm going to just take it easy.

Autumn

2010-09-26T12:37:00.001+03:00

No nature in sight in this picture, in fact about as far from nature as could be: a shabby, weather-beaten table outside a shabby-looking grill (closed at the time) at a street surrounded by nothing but concrete. Well, there were a few trees struggling to get by amidst the concrete. But the colours fit the season. I find weather-beaten wood surface beautiful, and was somehow fascinated by that discarded plastic cup with the drop of liquid. Probably Coke - or Pepsi, as the grill had Pepsi logos. You CAN find beauty in unexpected places.

Yesterday was such an amazing autumn day: +17 C and sunny - and it's nearly October! I went to the woods again to pick trumpet chanterelles. I can't help going to the nearby woods every chance I get, I admit it's a bit of an addiction. It's the joy of finding - and trumpet chanterelles are brown in colour so they disguise themselves well. But it's also the colours and the crisp fall fragrance. I don't know where it comes from. Is it the fallen leaves? The peat moss? The carpet of pine and fir tree needles? The soil itself? All of it? Anyhow, I love it. It's a fragrance that's only there in the autumn.

Ta-ta-ta-dam!

2010-09-21T21:06:00.003+03:00

Ta-ta-ta-dam! Ta-ta-ta-dam! Or indeed, as Stephen Fry described in his (In)Complete and Utter History of Classical Music, DE DE DE DERRR! DE DE DE DERRR! I have been listening to Beethoven's 5th. That is the stuff. Not only because of the first two bars of course. I love the whole lot, for example the beautiful, melodic string parts of the second movement and the triumphant, glorious theme in the fourth movement. To quote Stephen Fry again:

'Think how amazing and how violent, almost, the Symphony No 5 must have been when Beethoven let it loose on an unsuspecting public. Up until now, the most amazing thing in the world of symphonies has been Mozart or Haydn. They're both fab, don't get me wrong, but still, nothing in their entire symphonic oeuvre could possibly have prepared anyone for [SEE QUOTE ABOVE]. You see. Even written out like that, it looks somehow amazing, doesn't it? If you hear a great version of it now, it's still amazing. It's one of those pieces that can make you think that you've never heard it before. And not just the opening movement. Think of the last movement, in all its glory. It's MASSIVE. Huge and glorious, it takes no prisoners, it's immense.'

It's a rainy, dismal day outdoors, perfect for working. I indeed worked good many hours and made good progress on my article. The text is just about there, it just needs editing to make good.

And then the music, glorious music. Which leads me to popular culture. A friend pointed out Beethoven in The Clockwork Orange. It's true, young Alex in the film likes Beethoven, Beethoven's 9th particularly. Of course, young Alex is also probably the nastiest person in the whole history of cinema. On a lighter note, we must not forget the Monty Python sketch, in which Beethoven is hard at work composing, trying to get the first two bars of his 5th symphony right, but keeps getting disturbed all the time by Mrs. Beethoven.

I've also been going to the cinema a lot lately, as my brother and sister-in-law and my lovely little nephew gave me a set of five free movie tickets for my birthday. I used one on Thomas Vinterberg's new film Submarino, which is about two brothers, fatherless sons of an alcoholic mother who in adulthood try each on their own to hold their lives together It's a brilliant film but gut-wrenching, as there are precious few glimpses of light in the story, the misery of the brothers' life effectively emphasized by the generally grey world of the film. The other four tickets I used in the annual Love & Anarchy film festival that is currently going on in Helsinki. I've noticed that many films in the underground/indie cinema are either those über-violent Asian flicks which are oddly popular (or perhaps not oddly, thinking of all the Hollywood films with Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone and the likes slaughtering people left and right), or are about kinky/sick/weird subjects in a consciously 'look at me, I'm daring!' kind of way. I skipped all of those in the programming and instead tried to find different angles.

The first, His & Hers, an Irish film by Ken Wardrop, a beautiful and warm-spirited documentary of 70 Irish girls and women of different ages (from a toddler to grandmothers) telling about the important men in their lives - fathers, sons, boyfriends, husbands. No men are present in the film, just the women talking: ordinary things which are at the same time important; e.g. a 5- or 6-year-old telling how her dad always tells her to 'clean up your room!', a teenager saying how her dad is teaching her to drive, a 80-year old telling how she misses her and her late husband's moments in arm chairs in front of the fire.

The second film, Women without Men, by Iranian first-time film director Shirin Neshat, is set in 1953 in Tehran, just before and during the CIA and MI6 organized military coup that overthrew the democratically elected and progressive Mossadegh government. The film's characters are four women who each in their own way need to escape their life. There is a woman in her late twenties, living with her religious brother who tries to force her to stay indoors and to marry, who finds a new meaning in the communist party; there is her friend, religious and in love with her brother, who is raped by two men; a young prostitute who cannot bear her life; and a 50-year-old former singer, member of the wealthy, westernized upper class, who is tired in her marriage with a general. The latter buys an orchard as a refuge, and the second woman and the prostitute find their way there.

The premise of the film was interesting but its execution was a disappointment to me: I understand that the point of the story are the personal experiences of the four women and that the political disturbance can be seen as a parallel of the turmoil in the women's lives, but I would have expected the film to make in some way apparent why it was placed in these particular events and not some other time of disturbance in Iran's history. The tone of the film was magical rather than entirely realistic: in the beginning, we have the first woman jump off the roof. Her brother and friend bury her. Later, when her friend has obtained a spell to ruin the brother's impending marriage and, following the instructions, goes to bury the spell in the house's garden, she hears the dead woman's voice saying "I can't breathe". She begins to dig and finds her friend alive. Subsequently the latter finds her way to the communist party, but again at the end we are taken back to the suicide scene. As the woman's connection to the outside world was the radio on which she listened to news of the current events and sympathized with the anti-imperialist demonstrators and the Mossadegh government, I wondered whether the audience is supposed to get the impression that her joining the communist party was her imagination during the seconds of falling from the roof. The dream-like effect of the story was emphasized by the mist in the orchard and the sound track which was composed by a Japanese ambient artist. I like this sort of elements in a film but here they somehow didn't seem to gel. The final problem with the film was that the characters seemed more sketches than persons of real flesh and blood. The film is based on a book, so I should probably get it and read it. Films based on books are seldom better or even as good as the original stories.

For the third film, I went for an award-winner, this year's Sundance winner Winter's Bone. It's set in a meth-riddled, poverty-stricken hicksville in the mountainous Ozark plain of Missouri. 17-year-old Ree Dolly takes care of her younger siblings and mentally fragile mother; her father, a meth-cooker, is in prison. One day the sheriff comes to tell that her father has posted bail and put up the house as security, but has disappeared, and if he doesn't show up for the trial they'll lose the house. So Ree goes off to find her father and finds herself in very dangerous waters. Superb cinematography and excellent acting performances, but I didn't really connect because I wondered about the filmmakers' point of choosing such an extreme story (another film based on a book). It seemed somewhat exaggerated. Ree's character also didn't seem all that different from what has been seen in numerous stories before: an inhabitant of remote mountain regions, maybe white trash and rough but tough and with pride and certain dignity.

The last ticket was spent on Picture Me: A Model's Diary, a documentary by Sara Ziff and Ole Schell about the reality of the fashion industry. Sara Ziff is among the top fashion models of the recent years who also now studies in Columbia University, so it was interesting to see a real insider's view of the business. That the models are basically well-paid clothes hangers for the designers was not new to me, but I didn't know before how common sexual harassment is in the industry.

To end, here is a lovely evening mood from yesterday. I picked trumpet chanterelles in the nearby woods until it got dark and then went to the park beside the woods to take pictures, using the bucket as a stand.

The Dark Evenings of Autumn

2010-09-15T11:02:00.000+03:00

And now, as the days grow steadily shorter, the first night mood of the Autumn. It's simple and kind of ordinary, but I like this one a lot.

Strange Worlds

2010-09-13T23:04:00.002+03:00

Today

2010-09-10T23:10:00.001+03:00

I couldn't think of a title for this right now but this was today. I sent silent thanks to whoever it was that put the chair in such a photographically delightful spot!

Just a cell phone snap for Facebook but somehow the composition is just right: the position of the chair in the picture, the tilt of the horizon etc. I took plenty of pictures with my proper camera but I can just bet that none of them are EXACTLY the same!

A Story in a Park Bench

2010-09-08T20:41:00.004+03:00

My steps today took me along the bay in central Helsinki as I remembered there was something carved in one of the benches along the shore which I'd seen a while ago and wanted to photograph properly. I decided to do a series of the benches.

This one's just a cell phone picture but a good one as such and one I really like: the positive, optimistic message/exhortation, the weather-beaten and grey but warm-feeling surface of the bench, the scratching on it, and as a sort of a contrast to the message and the wood the desolate feeling of the cigarette butts. There's a story in the picture, whatever it might be. I hope it's a happy one: a group of young people sitting here in the evening, smoking and enjoying each other's company, and one of them happily writing the exhortation; or perhaps a happy couple watching the sunset. But it might be a sad story too: someone sitting alone, disappointed in love, after a relationship with a too possessive and jealous partner, expressing his or her feelings in that message on the wood surface (as in wanting to say how it should be instead of how it was). Or it might have been a campaigner for optimism, going around the city leaving his or her messages for anyone who happened on the spot to find.

It's such an ordinary, everyday image, but at the same time so moving.

Things done

2010-09-05T17:42:00.001+03:00

These two pictures rather finely illustrate what I've been doing lately.

There's this one spot in one of the forest areas here in Helsinki where I keep finding porcini - provided that it rains a bit here and there. Not a huge amount at one go but enough for a couple of meals and to put one package in the freezer. Now porcini are the best kind of mushrooms there are. Delicious in pasta sauce and risotto, or just fried in a pan and eaten on toast. The Italians buy any amount. They know their food, the Italians. They're not getting any of mine though.

My birthday was on friday. As I've now things to do (couple of applications, article work), I didn't have the energy to go anywhere or arrange anything. I just bought a bottle of fine red (a South-African one, Rust en Vrede Estate Cabernet 2004) and enjoyed it with brie, crackers and pears. On saturday, however, we had a family dinner at a lovely restaurant not far from where I live, located in a manor park, in the old steward's house: myself, my father, sister, brother, sister-in-law and younger nephew (the elder didn't feel like coming). Had a lovely time, in a lovely setting, and the food was delicious (I had roast lamb and American mud cake with vanilla ice cream). My nephew gave me a lovely birthday card, pictured above. Notice the artist's signature, "KUUTTI 2010". Rather a fine work, I must say.

Oh the pretty things

2010-08-21T18:19:00.001+03:00

The workmen were about to come to install the balcony glass at 8 am the other day so I thought I might as well get up some hours earlier to catch the sunrise as I'd been meaning to do. So, up I got very early, with the birds and the rabbits (saw the latter about) and made my way to the beach to wait for the sun's rising a bit before 6 am. I saw a fox on the way!

Late August sunrise is sleepy and slow.

I don't usually do sunrise or sunset photos, because they're such cliched subjects and because it's taking photos of pretty subjects rather than taking photos that are affecting (in whatever way) or beautiful in themselves. The two are very different things, and I usually try to go for the latter. Plus, at the risk of sounding like a tosser, it doesn't take much skill to get a pretty sunrise or sunset photo.

But it sure is very pretty isn't it?

Barefeet in the library, and how to express the inexpressible

2010-08-16T15:06:00.003+03:00

I'm sitting on the fourth floor of the university library/National Library, almost on the level of the roof tops of the buildings opposite. I'm seated by an open window, trying to catch the small draft that comes through - it's no longer stifling hot outside, but the library doesn't have a particularly good air-conditioning system, so it's still too warm inside. Still, it's not so bad. The library is in the city centre, so I'm enjoying the sounds of the city through the window. I've taken my shoes off and from time to time get up to get a particular book in the Classics shelf nearby. The library floors seem to be spotless.

It's back to work after the three days of celebration at the Flow festival. Of course, some of the artists performing were more trendy cool than authentically touching but a lot of it was new and interesting - the very reason I go every year. Some fascinating, interesting, just plain fun or mindblowing music:

Grey Park. I'd never heard of them before but their concert at the experimental music stage was quite something else: a continuous, slowly-moving, massive wall of sound, with tones, colours and textures woven in. It's not something I'd listen to on a daily basis but as an experience it was fascinating.

Hey. This really was their name. They created wonderful soundscapes with an electric guitar, cello, violin, percussion and a synth.

Girls. An American lo-fi pop band with a rather eventful personal history (birth in a cult, prescription drug addiction etc). On cd they are kind of Beach Bousy, lovely pop but live they completely rocked. A fantastic gig. And at the end of the gig they threw the roses they had on stage to - you guessed it - girls in the audience. Very sweet!

Ballake Sissoko. The world's second most known player of the traditional Malian instrument kora (related to a harp) after Toumani Diabate. I was looking forward to this since there are a few Malian artists I really like. In the end, though, I had to conclude that the kora is supremely beautiful but not very captivating. It all sounds the same in my ears. Well, my experience may also have been influenced by the fact that there were people around talking all through the concert. I don't understand why people come to a concert where the music is quiet and requires listening with concentration and then spend the entire time talking instead of listening.

Owen Pallett. This Canadian guy is a violin-electro wizard, who is most of the time on stage alone, playing his violin, but sounds like a string orchestra with the help of the backing tracks etc. that he used. A completely original sound. Unfortunately I had to leave after half an hour because the venue where the show was held, the old engine hall of the power plant, had a sauna-like temperature.

Caribou. They played a mind-blowing concert. A superbly danceable electro band but in concert they played all live: drums, bass, guitar, a synth. Completely incredible. The music was like fire; the beats like from the earth's core; the music like the earth's elements themselves. An astounding drummer. I can't believe the feeling their music gave me.

Caribou were the last band I saw, on sunday. There would have a couple more interesting names left, Marina and the Diamonds and The XX, but I decided to leave. One reason was that the queues to all the water spots and toilets were insane, but also I felt that anything after the concert I'd just experienced would be a comedown.

A thought about this: in trying to express the inexpressible of how music can make one feel, one is necessarily reduced to platitudes like 'incredible', 'mindblowing' or 'I can't believe how to the music made me feel.' These expressions do not properly DESCRIBE what the feeling was, they do not get to the core. That's the thing about music. The reaction to music is mainly about emotion - or should be mainly about emotion; if your only reaction is simply 'what an interesting guitar chord progression' (or similar) then I think something is wrong. The effect of music being about emotion also makes it personal in the extreme, which means the experience cannot be shared in its totality. I'm sure the majority of the audience in that concert was taken up by a shared emotion, of fervour or of joy perhaps, of being there as one among many, but if each person in the audience was to try to explain what they felt to someone who wasn't there, I'm sure they would find themselves lacking in words.

But: perhaps the feeling doesn't need to be explained, just felt.

So It Was Friday the 13th...

2010-08-14T10:29:00.001+03:00

So my microwave blew up yesterday. Really did. There was lots of smoke but no flames. I don't REALLY believe that Friday the 13th is a bad luck day but I had to laugh about the timing. The microwave was ancient in microwave standards, had been bought in the 90s so clear its time had come.

This weekend I'm enjoying my annual tradition, the Flow Festival. Yesterday was the first day, two more days to come. I guess I'll be going there after 2 pm when they open the gates. I hope the weather forecast is right that it'll clear up. Rain in an open-air festival is a bit of a drag. Yesterday I caught a couple of good acts, a rather fabulous electro pop duo called Villa Nah and an artist called Sami Kukka, whose music is experimental folk-blues. Some of the other artists, like the Air from France, were to my ears very cool but not authentically moving. Today should be better. I'm particularly looking forward to Owen Pallett and Junip. M.I.A may be very interesting too.

I still have to go on about the new Sherlock. I know it's only a TV show but I love it. Benedict Cumberbatch's performance is perfect. Not that awards matter but I'll be very surprised if they don't give him a BAFTA for that. The third episode was the best of the lot. Fantastic all through, but great details like the Minsk scene and the scene where Sherlock's bored and shoots at the wall and finally throws himself in the sofa, expecting John to stick around as audience to his dramatic sulking. I don't think I'd like a flatmate who think it's a good idea to keep a severed head in the fridge. :-)

John: "A severed head!"

Sherlock: "Just tea for me thanks."

John: "No, there's a head in the fridge!"

Sherlock: "Yes."

John: "A bloody head!"

Sherlock: "Where else was I supposed to put it? You don't mind do you? I got it at Bart's morgue. I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death..."

Testing...

2010-08-08T11:29:00.010+03:00

Nothing particular to say, I'm just testing the blogging client that's integrated in the KDE desktop I use in Linux. Called Blogilo.

This is the trailer to the new BBC series 'Sherlock' which sadly ends to the last 1,5 hour episode today. I sure hope they make more! UPDATE: judging by how the last episode ended, I'm sure they will. Hope it's sooner rather than later.

This time, Holmes is transferred to modern time. I was suspicious beforehand whether it works but it does, wonderfully. Quite a timely modernisation, too: there are already shows like 'House' where Dr. House is definitely a Holmesian character. Benedict Cumberbatch as Holmes is perfect (apparently the role was written with him in mind, too). Brilliant, intense, downright manic, dramatic, eccentric, egocentric, gets his kicks out of solving crimes = puzzles, charismatic but manipulative - he is a borderline sociopath after all. Or, as Holmes says himself, "I'm not a psychopath, Anderson, I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research!". Not a person you'd like to spend time with, let alone live with. But SO entertaining in fiction.

The show's also full of fantastic quotes:

Holmes: "Shut up!"

DI Lestrate: "I didn't say anything."

Holmes: "You were thinking. It's annoying."

Watson: "It's a skull."

Holmes: "Friend of mine. Well, I say friend..."

"Dear god, what's it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring."

"Look at you lot, you're all so vacant! Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing."

Someone's already put the previous two episodes on Youtube. Easy to find if one searches with the actor's name ("Benedict Cumberbatch") and then selects Search options > Sort by > Upload date. The first episode is called "A Study in Pink" and the second one "The Blind Banker".

Summer reveries

2010-07-31T10:29:00.012+03:00

Oops! Over two weeks gone without a blog post... in summer reveries. This is an old picture and actually taken in early September, but it fits the mood. It's been +25 C or more every day, only now a bit cooler (but still over +20 C). The sort of days when you feel like you want to do nothing, just be.

The 'being' in this context involves, e.g., going to the beach to swim (almost every morning) - I consider myself a contemplative swimmer: I'm not fast but I AM tenacious and can go a long distance. And it's the process of swimming that counts, not how fast you can go a distance.

And sitting in the deck chair in the balcony, reading. Lately, The Stone Gods and Gut Symmetries by Jeanette Winterson. She can use words to make them dazzle and keep you in their spell. I also finally read the autobiography of Mark Everett (of the Eels) which I'd bought ages ago, Things Your Grandchildren Should Know. He seems a wonderfully sweet man, and optimistic despite a hard, hard life. And Discworld novels by Terry Pratchett, they are entertaining and very very funny but also have more than meets the eye. I've plenty of books in my shelf that I've bought at one time or another and haven't got 'round to reading. The deck chair awaits again?

I DO have work to do, too... but I'll get to that tomorrow? August starts tomorrow. If I get back to work tomorrow, it'll be nice and organised, to start right at the beginning of the month. Oh, I was planning to go to the Alppipuisto Jazz tomorrow if the weather is good. Maybe I'll get to work on monday? Monday is good for work. August and monday.

***

The 10 days at the countryside up north were very lovely. But too many mosquitoes and gadflies which all seem to target me specially! Back in the city, an entertaining morning with the nephews on the beach. Plenty of fighting imaginary pirates who sure got a good whupping. Good that my 5-year-old nephew was commander of the good guys, otherwise the battle would've been lost. In the middle of the fierce battle, the young sir asked me: "So, are you not a grown up yet?" Hm... :-)

Also, a lovely trip with brother's family to the Pihlajasaari island, a popular summer place for Helsinki residents for over 80 years. It felt good to be a part of continuing the tradition. We swam at the beach where the ferries to Tallinn pass very close, (just outside the swimming area), then ate at the restaurant in the old wood villa and spent a while climbing and investigating underwater life in the puddles on the rocks by the shore.

On a different day, my elder nephew went to his first ever rock concert with his parents (Muse), whilst I kept company to the younger. Computer games, watching cartoons, eating ice cream cones (alternating with bare waffle cones), Wii Sports, legos. Quite an active evening that was. My elder nephew suggested that as a payment for my babysitting his brother, he will grant me a free audience. The cheek. He's 10. :-)

Another lovely half-day with sister at the beach and then lunch and a glass of white in the restaurant Wanha Mylly, located at the Herttoniemi manor park (used to be the manor of the last Swedish commander of the Suomenlinna sea fortress) some way towards the city centre. It has the most wonderful shaded patio and a great selection of wines, and the river crab salad was delicious.

Now I'm hoping that the swimming weather isn't over yet (+20 C sea water is still ok, +18 C starts to get too chilly). I wouldn't mind if it rained properly on some days, though. I LOVE mushrooms - no silly jokes about magic mushrooms, thank you - and it's been so dry that I'm worried I won't find any chanterelles at all this year. Of course there's always some to buy, but that doesn't involve the joy of discovery. Besides, the ones at the fruit and veg stand at the mall have looked a bit mangy. I went to look for mushrooms the other day and walked through a large field of clover. It was such a sad sight: all the flowers dead, dry and brown.

I'm also waiting for my annual already-tradition, Flow Festival, held in mid-August at the site of the old Suvilahti power plant right in the city. New and exciting music, gourmet food and central location, just a couple of metro stops from where I live. My kinda festival. :-)

***

Sorry about the slow passing of some comments lately. I had to turn on comment moderation because of Chinese spammers but forgot that it was turned on and therefore forgot to click 'accept' on the notifications that came to my inbox. Also sorry for not visiting blogs. It's all due to summer reveries.

Hope everyone's had a great summer!

A Sky Job

2010-07-12T21:23:00.004+03:00

This was in Väike-Õismäe. I actually like the area, quite an impressive plan the suburb has. I also like the building, at least with the balconies repainted.

No doubt it's the ideal job for someone who likes mountaineering and other high places stuff, and being outdoors. I wouldn't even consider it. I don't like heights!

I've been having pleasant summer days at my parents' house in the countryside near Oulu where I used to live, 600 km up north from Helsinki. That's not to say I've done nothing at all, on the contrary I've been working on an article text and my photos. Oh, and eating strawberries freshly picked outside. Very warm, like today it was +28 C out there. Luckily, the old house stays fairly cool, and furthermore at one end of the house I can keep two windows open and have a pleasant, cooling wind blow through the room. Another thing I've been meaning to do is to go out some night and take pictures, because it doesn't get dark here now, just kind of a milky dusk. But I was scared off by the hordes of mosquitoes! I hate mosquitoes, and at night time they would come at you in clouds!

Oh, I was also bitten by a wood tick. Quite amusing in retrospect because it bit me in the arse. I can just imagine a tiny, little wood tick labouring up my leg and sinking its teeth (or whatever it has) in the best meaty part. :D Nothing happened there, there's no sign of infection or anything, it didn't even manage to draw any blood. But I did panic for a little bit before I found out that the chances of getting Lyme disease from a single tick bite are basically zero. It's just that it's so much in the news, whenever they talk about ticks and tick bites they talk about Lyme disease.

Next thursday it's back to Helsinki. They're saying it's going to be +31 C on the weekend, but luckily I managed after all to find a cheap table ventilator online. They'll even carry it to my door with no extra fee.

The journey's end

2010-07-09T21:38:00.001+03:00

I have finally come to the end of my pictorial journey of Lasnamäe. All pictures - about 70 of them - are now uploaded. Here is the link again:

PHOTOGRAPHIC JOURNEY OF LASNAMÄE

Of course, there's plenty in the area that I haven't explored, so I've good reasons to go back to Tallinn. One way would be to thoroughly explore each of the sub-districts of the suburb at a time. Another idea is to go in a really miserable day to get lots of dark looming :-) I'd also be interested in seeing how it looks like in winter.

Now to editing the pics I took at Väike-Õismäe and elsewhere in Tallinn.

Riverman

2010-07-04T17:28:00.000+03:00

Still a LONG way to go in my pictorial journey in Lasnamäe. Just wanted to upload this one on the blog as I like it a lot. Taken on the bus towards central Tallinn. On first round, last monday, I got as far as the Laagna subdistrict, then went back to the city centre to get the hotel room and get something to eat.

I called this picture 'Riverman' because Laagna tee is an asphalt river that runs through Lasnamäe, and like real rivers it has bridges and people live on either side of it. This fellow, then, is a passenger on the asphalt river.

Modern fairytale illustrations

2010-07-02T20:00:00.001+03:00

I've added many more pics to my photographic journey of Lasnamäe:

LINK: PHOTOGRAPHIC JOURNEY

A few pictures here.

Imagine driving along Laagna tee here in a grey, cloudy, dark day. These buildings looming just above might not be a very reassuring sight. But they also made me think of modern illustrations to fairytales. I'm thinking of those tales that feature giants or stone trolls (or dragons too?) that you have to pass very quietly so that they don't wake up. Another element I recall is unpassable guardians of gates: they appear to be statues but when you try to pass, they come alive. I think such creatures are guarding Sauron's gate in Tolkien.

And now, clash of the titans. It looks like a battle is about to commence here. These two giants are clearly facing off each other. Will one of them give in? Well, this is actually some of that Transformers stuff more than fairytale. Know those robot mechanic toy thingies that can change form, like from a robot to a car or a plane?

A photographic journey through the Soviet suburb of Lasnamäe

2010-06-30T16:51:00.001+03:00

I'm so happy that I decided to go to Tallinn for a second time so soon, because after the first time I felt there was 'unfinished business'. One of the things I did this time was to go pretty much from one end of the vast Lasnamäe suburb in eastern Tallinn to the other, in three different trips.

I'm hereby starting my photoraphic journey of the place. This time I uploaded on Facebook, but it should be a public link, accessible without a Facebook account.

LINK: PHOTOGRAPHIC JOURNEY

As of the time of posting this I'm only at the beginning of the journey, yet to have found my way properly into the depths of the concrete jungle. I will keep adding more photos as I get them done, following the route I walked. Probably I can't remember/locate all the streets but I have added a map link where possible. Anyway, if interested, keep checking back to the link.

Lasnamäe is a Soviet suburb, whose building work started in the 70s. The plan was never quite finished, so there's a fair amount of unused land there. The suburb is 30 square kilometers/11.6 square miles in areal and has over 100 000 residents, most of them Russian, Ukrainian etc. The wide Laagna tee runs through the whole area, and with the several bridges crossing it and the concrete blocks spreading on both sides, it is kind of like a river. Also, like rivers, it helps with finding your way: if you just keep in mind where Laagna tee is, you won't get lost. The southern part of the area, around Peeterburi road, is industrial, the northern part residential. Lasnamäe is divided into several sub districts. The photographic journey begins in the oldest part, Sikupilli and Ülemiste (LINK) and ends up almost at the other end of Laagna tee in Mustakivi (LINK).

I didn't find Lasnamäe particularly ugly - well, there was the blazing sun - but I did find it a peculiar place, in the way the massive concrete blocks - nothing but concrete, only lately enlivened with repainted balconies etc - go on and on mile after mile after mile. Then there's the fact that the Soviet apartment blocks are very similar everywhere, with very slight variations. I could find several identical building types in Lasnamäe and the other two, much smaller contemporary suburbs that I also visited: Mustamäe and Väike-Õismäe. A commie blocks and techno music enthusiast in some skyscraper forum compared the former's relentless monotony to the latter's repetitiveness. I think that's a very apt comparison. It might feel horrific that people live in a place like Lasnamäe. But one has to remember that when the first apartment blocks rose here, many of the people who originally moved in for the first time in their lives had a home with all the modern amenities.

Tallinn, first set of pictures

2010-06-27T14:42:00.002+03:00

Well now, I couldn't resist the temptation. I booked another 55 euro ferry + hotel trip for tomorrow. The fact is, a week ago, I only made it to the edge of Lasnamäe, not to the Soviet concrete jungle proper. This time, I'm going to get the Tallinn card and take a bus further into the area. Another area I'm wanting to see is Mustamäe, which is a similar concrete suburb, though mostly Estonian residents whereas the majority of the over 100 000 people who live in Lasnamäe are Russian, Ukrainian etc. I'm going to take my notebook, so I can at least tell myself to do some work on the ferry and in the evening in the hotel room. ;-) Besides, the 55 euro offer is only until the end of June. They're hitching up the prices in July!

Lähettäjä Tallinn, Estonia 1

On the edge of Lasnamäe, by the Laagna tee road.

CLICK HERE FOR THE PHOTO ALBUM

Here is the first set of pictures from Tallinn. These were taken last tuesday and are from a little round starting from the port, going along Tuukri street, then along the J. Poska street by the Kadrioru park. This street has large wooden villas and houses (I guess in the Soviet time they might also have been multi-apartment housing?), some newly restored, some being restored, and some completely abandoned and boarded up. I was particularly excited about the house with the stone decorations by the front steps. Clearly it was once a beautiful building. Finally, the round ends to the location in the picture above. All the pictures are Google maps tagged.

Direct link to slideshow: CLICK.

Midsummer restlessness

2010-06-25T13:40:00.001+03:00

Today is the funeral of Neil. I never knew him in real life, but online, since Pete's The Boy Who Heard Music, I knew him as a sweet, kind man who had the ability to make even a stone pillar roll on the floor laughing. The ability and the willingness and desire to bring such joy to others with laughter is, I think, the greatest gift one could have. My thoughts are with Neil and those close to him today. Rest in peace, Neil, and thank you for all the laughter.

***

There are no photos to post of the crime novel story, as the events of the rest of the story take place in the locations I've posted pictures of already. At the top floor of the house described in the previous post, where Vappu lives, lives Kyllikki, a woman in her forties who I think is trying to make ends meet with prostitution, or at least by occasionally acquiring money from the men she makes liaisons with; the drunkards who hang around in the yard from morning till night mock and badmouth her, calling her 'circular saw pussy' and other such names. One evening, Tapani meets her on the street, and they enter in a sort of a relationship. Some days after, things change when Kyllikki's former partner and owner of the apartment, called Snowman (a twist of his name), a man who has had a deeply tragic life and is now an alcoholic, returns, after a long time. The drunkards in the yard tell him that Kyllikki is seeing another man. Snowman, whose mind is deluded, either by alcohol or by the things he has had to endure in his life, has believed that Kyllikki is his first wife, who died tragically. Enraged, he storms up to the apartment, where Tapani is with Kyllikki. The next night, there is a fire in the building. Kyllikki dies in the fire, and Tapani is seriously, almost fatally, injured. The police suspect Snowman and arrest him.

It's a warm but very humid day. The Midsummer's celebration is upon us again - or Juhannus, as it's called here. It's an ancient pagan festival but with Christianity St. John's day was put on it, that's why the name. I'm not doing anything particular to celebrate it; perhaps because I'm a city person through and through, whereas Juhannus is a very anti-city thing. However, if the weather permits, I may go to the city tomorrow to photograph the miracle of Helsinki with nearly empty streets. Why nearly empty streets? Because a large percentage of the population goes out to the country. Why? it's the tradition. Even public transportation is closed for the morning, starting only at 11 am.

I've actually been taken over by a kind of restlessness after my little trip to Tallinn, Estonia on monday and tuesday. I enjoyed it so much, I want go back! Going there was just a whim: one of the ferry companies, Tallink, has these trips + hotel offers, so I called the reservation number on monday and was able to get a room for the next night. I hopped on the 2.30pm ferry was in Tallinn at 4.30pm, got the room at the Tallink Express hotel by the port, and came back on the 9pm ferry the following evening. The hotel was basic but had all the necessities: good bed, bathroom, free wifi and sumptuous breakfast. All this, the trips and the hotel, for just 55 euros put together. It's actually just half an euro more expensive than regular route trips on the same ferry, if you go on the week and take the earliest and latest ferries and get the online reservation -15% reduction.

The result of my trip was 900+ photos. It's so wonderful that Tallinn is only a couple of hours away from Helsinki, yet the two cities are so distinctly different. The most wonderful thing for me is that you don't have to go far from the Medieval Old Town to find direct remains of the Soviet time (a building with the Soviet star still on top; the concert hall by the port, absurd in its massive dimensions and concrete heaviness, oddly enough with a design that looks a bit like it's trying to imitate ancient temples); streets where you might have newly and beautifully restored, grand houses and beside them similar houses that stand empty and in a state of decay, boards in their windows; industrial and residential buildings, at least on the outside ravaged and with grey walls; 60s and 70s colossi of grey apartment blocks. I truly recommend Tallinn. If the above sights are not quite your thing, there's something else too: the beautiful Old Town with its various restaurants and cafes and several spas around the city.

Perhaps I should contain myself for a while. It's not like I don't have anything to do: research work; about 2000 photos to sort through and edit; Marianne Faithfull's concert on wednesday; and next weekend, or the monday after, I'm off to the countryside up north to visit my parents.

Harjunpää and the pyromaniac, post 4

2010-06-16T14:32:00.007+03:00

I've had quite busy time past couple of weeks: babysitting my elder nephew on two days last week; on the weekend my parents arrived, on their way to a trip in Germany; on sunday, most of the day passed in the science park with my brother's family, my sister and my parents; on monday, a highly enjoyable photography trek in the backlands of the city (or what felt like the backlands of the city) and taking my elder nephew to his parkour training in the evening; yesterday babysitting the nephew again. In the meantime watching football World Cup as well.

Time for another installment of the crime novel photos now, whilst waiting for the laundry. Just one scene now. This takes place soon after the events of the previous post, after an unsuccessful nightly stakeout in the neighbourhood by Harjunpää and another detective of the criminal police. I was going to post about the stakeout as well, but couldn't find Harjunpää's post. If it was there in the late 70s, I'm sure it's been cleared away to make room for new buildings. I have no reason to believe that Joensuu invented the spot, because his books are very every day realistic. He worked in the Helsinki police force for decades until his retirement in 2006, in the arson unit and in violent crimes if I remember correctly, so I'm sure he became very familiar with the unfortunate side of life. Harjunpää's stakeout post is described as a copse of willows, apparently originally intended as a barrier against the din of the nearby Kustaa Vaasa road but ending up as a site of disturbance: full of wrecks of stolen bikes, fridges etc.

Note: the young woman in this scene speaks a regional dialect which I can't possibly replicate in English. A professional translator very familiar with dialects might replace the dialogue with a regional dialect of his/her own country, but as it is, I shall have to just go for generic English. The dialect clearly reveals the young woman to be someone who came to Helsinki to find a better, brighter future, as so many did especially in the 60s and 70s.

Harjunpää is waiting by a street corner, near Intiankatu street; hearing footsteps and seeing a shadow approach, he presses himself against the wall, ready for the intruder. It turns out to be a young woman, pregnant and due to give birth soon. She reminds him of her wife Elisa who is also at the last stage of pregnancy.

"'God!', the woman sounded out; she was only six feet away from the corner. She leaned against the wall with her left hand and shielded her belly with the right. The woman had a straw-blond, long hair, and wide face with a small, perk nose. There were wrinkles in the corners of her eyes, as if she'd laughed a lot. Now her expression was frightened, almost panicked. Ashamed, Harjunpää felt it was his fault. 'I'm sorry. And evening,' Harjunpää said, smoothening his hair, trying to be as polite and official as possible to calm her down. Then he realized that to a stranger he had to look like some kind of a guerilla, a burglar at least, with all his gear.

'...ning', the woman swallowed, examining Harjunpää as closely as he did her. Harjunpää began to feel that she was seeing his thoughts as clearly as Elisa but wasn't bothered. Rather, he felt relieved - sensed that he wouldn't need to give more explanations. 'You know, I was thinking I was about to be robbed. Why'd you jump back like that, like you were meaning to spy on me?' 'I didn't mean to. I'm really sorry. I guess I thought that some villain was coming.' 'Me, a villain?' She giggled... ...He noticed he was thinking, too, that if the woman had had braids and a red-chequered scarf on her head, she could've been the young mistress of a farm in some film, calling in her cattle for the evening milking, with a mother-in-law scheming her evil schemes behind her back."

NOTE: The street here, Limingantie, is the right street, and the first of these two pictures shows the right spot: the house where the young woman lives is described as being located at the end of the street. All the houses around there seemed newer, though, so I'm sure the building would have been either thoroughly renovated or razed to the ground and a new one built instead.

Harjunpää agrees to walk the young woman home, discarding his policeman's suspicion that she's a robbers' decoy.

'Where do you live then?' 'Just close by, at the end of Limingantie here. You know the large wood houses? Right there. In the last one. Come along, I want to get to bed.' She slipped her arm around Harjunpää's and practically began to walk him. ... 'I'm Vappu. You can call me that if you like.' 'I'm Timo. But most people call me Timppa.'

'How come you're getting home so late?', Harjunpää asked, chewing a leaf which he'd picked from a rowan tree that arched over the street. 'I was at work.' 'Shouldn't you be on maternity leave?' 'Yeah, I should, but it's not a proper job, just babysitting on Mäkelänkatu.' 'And you walked all the way from there?' 'Right. They did give me money for the bus but I saved it after all.' Vappu whisked her purse. It was made of plastic, simple, the cheapest you could find for sure.

Harjunpää felt sorry for Vappu, for no reason. 'My wife's expecting too. I think due very soon like you. She's... well, she's in a better situation because she has a job and maternity leave.' 'Oh, you want a boy or a girl?' 'Well, it doesn't matter. We already have a girl - she'll be three soon.' 'Well, a boy would be nice then. I'm hoping for a boy. And that's what it'll be. My behind has got wider the way it always does when it's a boy.' 'Oh, I wouldn't have guessed on that basis.' 'Oh, you...' Vappu giggled again. 'You did notice.' Wrinkles appeared in the corners of her eyes, just like Harjunpää had guessed.

Most of the street lamps at the end of Limingantie had been broken. The street narrowed; now it felt like a real country alley. They got to the middle of the street between the parked cars, and Harjunpää no longer needed to shield his head from the branches reaching over the fences.

'Timo, I only got to Helsinki this spring. I haven't had time to get a job. But after I've given birth to Henrik, then - we'll get a proper home. With a balcony and electric stove and everything. And we'll buy a tv too. But first I'll get a job of course. I'm good at sewing', Vappu said, brushing her dress. 'I could go to one of those fashion houses, where fancy ladies shop. That's what I'll do.' 'Alright. Yeah, it's good to have things planned out,' Harjunpää said. He felt a pain go through his mind but tried to sound cheerful. Without asking, he knew that Vappu had become pregnant in Helsinki, and suspected she had no idea who the father was; if she had, the man must have been married, or one of the guys hanging around the railway station who cared about nothing.

'I guess you're not very old', Harjunpää said. 'No. I'm only 21. And that's why I've got a chance. I've plenty of time to try out things.' Harjunpää made an agreeing sound. 'Yep. That's what Oiva says too, that I just need to keep on trying. I live with Oiva. He's not my man. Not a fiancee either. He could be my grandad. But he's good - he took me in to live with him, 'cause I've nowhere else. He's on a pension. And I'm taking care of the household and other people's kids... Here's where we live.'

They stopped on a narrow path. The house stood on a hillside rising towards the woods. It was large and sombre, filled with nothing but dark, like a giant's coffin. Harjunpää breathed out. He should've guessed that Vappu could only live in one of the monstrous three-storey wooden houses.

... At regular intervals the long wall had doors leading into the house. Each had an identical set of wood step, identical rain vizors covered with roofing felt. By the nearest steps stood empty beer bottles and a dented accordion. The furthest doors were indistinct, vanishing into the dark. 'Which one's your door?' 'That second one over there. And second floor too. You know - I've been thinking. Henrik's going to be an economist. Or an athlete. Agrologist would be good too. What do you think?'

'Yeah. Come on.' To his surprise, he didn't want to know what the unborn Henrik would become; the very thought made him strangely anxious. They went up the stairs. The door wasn't locked. It was swollen, hanging from the top hinge, and didn't close properly. There was a smell of molten wall insulation, and a faint tapping came from the top floor, as if someone'd been trying to get in without waking the neighbours. Wappu turned the light switch, to no avail. Harjunpää lit his dynalite. Everything in the hallway was depressingly brown: walls, stairway, railings. 'You ok if I keep the light on for a bit?', Harjunpää whispered as if fearing that the house was listening. 'I can find my way in the dark too. Thank you. And good night.' 'Good night, Vappu. Take care of yourself and Henrik.'

Vappu climbed the first few steps, then leaned on the railing as if drained of all energy. 'I'm so scared', she suddenly said. 'I don't know what's going to happen. I'm not going to find a job... I've been trying... and I can't really sew either...' 'Come on now.' Harjunpää touched her palm with his fingers. Vappu's eyes seemed smudged in the torch light. 'I'll never make it,' she sniffed. 'I can't bring a baby to a room the size of an outhouse. And I don't dare go home - everybody would laugh and mock me. And Oiva's on heart pills. I've got to call his sister in Lahti when he dies. I'm so alone...'

...Harjunpää waited. Nearly a minute passed before Vappu's sniffling calmed. 'Everything's going to be alright, believe me,' Harjunpää said. 'The kid is worth struggling for. And kids always bring luck. And besides. You could go to a mother-and-baby home. They help mothers like you there, who don't have... an apartment or a job. You should find out.'

Harjunpää and the pyromaniac, post 3

2010-06-11T17:25:00.007+03:00

Annala manor and gardens which feature in this section. They were built in the first half of the 19th century by a local industrialist and man of influence as a summer villa for his family, and named after his wife Anna. The family had it for a 100 years. I believe the gardens were restored to their original form only about 10 years ago or so.

Now, the spot in these excerpts was the most difficult to locate. I found two locations that might be it. Then again, neither might be, and if one or the other is, it may have changed in the past three decades, some rock may have been taken away or something. It IS the right approximate area, though.

The character here, called the Master, is an old man, a homeless alcoholic who used to be a painter master. He has retained his skill in mixing paints, which is why he is sometimes still offered work in construction projects, enough to keep him in booze. This summer, the Master has lived in the shack described in the excerpts.

"In the land of the Annala manor, close to the quiet Old Town road, had for nearly 20 years stood empty a tool shack. In defiance of natural laws the shack was still standing, although its walls were worn and threadbare. The miracle had apparently been caused by the location; the right side of the shack joined a rock that rose up to nearly three meters, whereas on the left side there were wild raspberry bushes the height of a man and apple trees that had grown bush-like with lack of care. The shack was sheltered from both weather and people. The Annala land was excellently located otherwise too; the Master had a short way to go to both Toukola and Kumpula, and he could find plenty of empty bottles on the streets of both districts."

" '... know anything. Guess you didn't... let him on your back... but your kids ok... Master will look after...' Tapani couldn't make just a word here and there. He had to lift his head. The old man was sitting with his back towards Tapani, without company, just droning on to himself. Tapani stretched his neck a little bit more and realized he'd been wrong - there was a pure-white cat between the man's legs. She was stretching her body and reaching with her paw at a piece of meat that the man was dangling in his hand. Kittens were playing in the grass and there were many of them, at least five."

The scene continues: The sight of the old man with the cats fills Tapani's mind with warmth, and he approaches, nervously, wanting to sit and chat. The tramp, however, is suspicious of the trespasser and thinking Tapani is trying to take something. He first shouts at Tapani to beat it, then orders him to look at the master's hands, and descends into a drunken, tearful, shaky droning about the things he achieved as a painter master. Suddenly he is enraged again, flails around swaying, finds a board and throws it at Tapani. The board hits him straight in the groin, making him take flight, crouching and groaning in pain.

" 'Shitty rat. Throwing a board at someone's balls like that. He should be killed,' he said, but the words were heard only by the apple trees drooping in the heat of the afternoon. The white cat sneaked from behind the corner of the shack. Tapani turned and started limping towards the alder copse. A few meters before his hideout his will failed him and he started crying. He made into the shade of the branches, threw himself down in the ferns and didn't move for a long while.

***

The following day, crime scene:

"The rock's side dropped almost straight down for about three meters. The smell of smoke was now strong. Below there was a blackened area the size of a room. The grass was burned around it. The raspberry branches were grey, like the ash of a cigarette left to burn on its own. The apple trees were peculiarly trunkated; half of them were green, alive, but the branches on the other side reached up to the sky black. Only one end wall was visible of the building. It had fallen away from the flames and now was lying amongst the nettles like an upturned hide. The air was rippling and steam rose from the piles of rubbish in the blackened area."

"' The body, by the way', Kaartinen waved at the cinders a few meters away. 'It's by that intact wall over there. It's badly damaged. Maybe we wouldn't have noticed it immediately if one of the hands wasn't almost intact. I don't know - I'm thinking, maybe the man had stuck it out from some gap between the wall boards. Maybe he'd tried to get away. I may be wrong."

"Harjunpää crouched down. He covered his mouth and nostrils, making it a little easier to breather. Actually he wanted to get a mask from Suttelin's bag, but didn't feel like doing it because he'd gone to the body on his own. The smell wasn't bad as such. It was like a burned steak, and that association made Harjunpää's empty stomach suddenly feel too full.

"At first glance, the body was nothing but a formless lump. Harjunpää had to gather his thoughts before he could look at it systematically. The head was visible as a distinct ball, but you could guess where the face had been from four black holes only. The mouth was the largest of the four, gaping open as if still screaming in horrible pain. He couldn't look at it any more although he knew that it would've ended up like that, whether it'd been open or closed at the moment of death. The lower legs weren't there, they had burned entirely. The large knee joints were maybe among the ash and could be found if searched carefully. The left hand was missing but the right one was there. It stuck out from the elbow, slightly bent towards the fallen wall; up to the elbow it was completely burned, but as if by a miracle the palm had stayed. It had got fried but it was still a hand. The fingers were long, somehow similar to Harjunpää's own fingers, but scratched and worn. The hand was convulsed. It had reached desperately for help, Harjunpää thought, though he knew that the convulsion had been caused by the changes brought about by the heat in the tendonss and muscles."

"Holmlund came closer, holding the white cat in his arms. His face was pale and sombre. 'Timo, guess what we found under the body?', he asked. Harjunpää saw his lips twitch. 'There were... There were five dead kittens there. I guess he'd collected them into his shirt.. and ... they'd got crushed under him when he'd fallen. They'd suffocated.' 'Oh...' 'I buried them under an apple tree.' A restless muscle made Holmlund's cheek twitch. Harjunpää had to look down at his shoes. He felt sad too, because he was like everybody else; the shooting of police dog Lex had raised a storm of emotion in the press that lasted for a year. A book was written about him and there was a memorial statue planned, but when burglars in Mikkeli had killed the constable, a family man, who had come to arrest them, the matter was quickly forgotten. 'Yeah, it was good that you buried them,' Harjunpää said. 'The wood crows might have taken them', he added after a moment of thinking, but immediately regretted saying so."

Harjunpää and the pyromaniac, post 2

2010-06-08T01:11:00.007+03:00

A few more pictures now, thought why not since I got some more edited. Here again, there is a clear difference between the descriptions of the story and what the locations look like now. Regarding the first picture: probably the tennis court is not the same but it's to the right direction and there is no other tennis court nearby these days. Maybe it's the same location.

"Tapani lived in Toukola, close to where Koreankatu street departed from Kustaa Vaasa road (map). The easiest route home would have been to turn to Kaironkatu street. But he didn't do so."

"Instead, he sauntered along Hämeentie road towards the city centre, crossed the street by the Arabia factory and then slightly nervously approached the tennis court (map). The court was empty. Tapani was disappointed. Around that time in the afternoon there often were two girls, young women, there, and he liked to hang around to watch them play. He didn't really understand the game much, but he enjoyed the women's graceful movements. Especially he liked the girl whose hair was auburn, almost red."

"Tapani waited for a few minutes, but nobody came. He sighed, stuck his hands into his pockets and, with head sunk in disappointment, started towards Kustaa Vaasa road. This time he didn't even feel like testing how long he could stare at women he passed by. He didn't quite know why the empty court had soured his mood. There was no point to it, really; if the girls had been there, it would've just gone the way it always did. After finishing the game, the auburn-haired girl would have waved at him, smiling; he would've felt like caught doing something bad, would have fled, red spots burning on his cheeks; would have run all the way home. That's what would've happened, and actually it wouldn't have felt any better than the gnawing disappointment. Tapani lifted his head and decided to whistle a cheerful song. Instead, a hymn escaped from his lips. It came out thin and sharp. He didn't know what it was called.

If someone had talked to the people who had passed Tapani then, some might have remembered him. 'Oh, some weird guy?', they would've said. 'Yeah, actually... He had his hands stuck in his pockets and he was whistling some hymn. No, it really was a hymn. Clothes? Not sure... Maybe jeans and some T shirt, maybe green. He was a tallish, gawky sort of a kid, ordinary looking. Had marks on his cheeks, like he'd had a bad acne before. Age? Maybe 20 at most.' That's what people would've said and only because Tapani was whistling while he sauntered slowly towards home."

"It was just over half past four when Tapani came into his home yard. From one hand he was swinging an orange plastic bag, which told that he had gone to a shop. He didn't go straight into the house, badly in need of new paint, but went to the yard and grouched down beside the full rain water barrel. He breathed deep, waited, listened for a moment. A lawnmower was zig-zagging on the other side of the garden fence, the scent of chlorophyll filling the air. Tapani's lips moved. 'Moron. Dimwit moron', he whispered, his words directed at his neighbour who was so obsessive about his lawn and his garden.

He was sure that the scent of the freshly-cut lawn would get his mother to start again on her never-ending complaints about how their yard was the most squalid in the entire street and how he had to do something about it. It annoyed him; he wasn't lazy, didn't even hate garden work - he simply loved his wild and freely flourishing home yard. After nightfall it was teeming with life: the low croaking of frogs in the mossy ditch; rustling and swarming in the grass when mice and voles went off on their excursions; and now in August, the mesmerising orchestra of bush-crickets played until well after midnight."

***

In the next section, night has fallen, and Tapani is about to go out for his nightly excursions.

"For Tapani, Kustaa Vaasa road was a kind of a watershed. On one side of the road was Toukola, his home...

... on the other side Kumpula, an almost identical village of wood houses. This time, Kumpula was drawing him more. There were large, ugly wood buildings there, with suspicious inhabitants: booze sellers, fencers, listless folks lazing in the yards from morning till night, playing cards, with sluggish, loudly laughing women keeping them company.

Tapani was more and more tempted to cross the road, but at the same time some instinct was warning him against it. Just in the past week, he'd had to quickly flee from Kymintie street. He'd done no harm, just peeked through a hole in the hawthorn fence at a woman hanging up laundry, when a gang of ten gypsy kids had tumbled onto the scene. They had surrounded him, kept jumping around him, and he still shivered, remembering how they had chanted in their shrill, loud voices, 'whitey fat face, whitey fat face...'. Tapani swallowed and decided to wait for a sign to decide which way to go. Almost immediately, a hooded crow croaked hoarsely nearby and another responded. Tapani decided that was enough. He was almost relieved when he turned to go towards Old Town."

To be continued...

Harjunpää and the pyromaniac, post 1

2010-06-06T19:10:00.009+03:00

Okay, I'm starting with this crime novel photos experiment. The first book I picked is the second one in the Joensuu's Harjunpää series, called Harjunpää and the Pyromaniac, written in 1978. It is not available in English translation.

The events of the book take place in three northernly districts of Helsinki, Toukola, Kumpula and Arabianranta (map). The former two are fairly similar, now very pleasant areas of beautiful wood houses, divided by a major road (see Gustav Vasas Väg in the map, link above), much favoured for instance by families with young children. Arabianranta is a new district of apartment housing built in the last 10 years. The area got its name from the Arabia porcelain factory, founded in 1873, whose buildings now house a pop-jazz conservatory and the School of Art and Design. The region is historically important, since it was here that Helsinki was first founded in the mid-16th century. The town did not thrive, however, and was relocated south to where the modern city centre is located.

It is August, and a peculiar series of fires in Toukola and Kumpula is causing strain in the police force. Due to shortage of manpower, DC Timo Harjunpää is assigned to the arson unit. We learn early on that the perpetrator is Tapani, a boy of about 17 or 18, 19 at most, who lives in Toukola. His parents are divorced since he was five, and he lives with his mother. Tapani is a lonely, quiet young man, maybe shy too. Next year he is due to perform his military service, something he is anticipating with anxiety. Secretly, partly as a way of rebellion from his mother no doubt, he's trying out things of the adult world, drinking beer, smoking, dreaming of meeting girls and sex. Lighting the fires are for Tapani a way to feel strong, to be noticed, maybe to channel anger and frustration too. Mostly he has set fire to small constructions, cars and such but takes a step to a more serious direction when he is angered by an old alcoholic, who lives in a shack in the neighbourhood: he sets fire to the shack and the man burns with it. The story follows on one hand the police's frustratingly slowly advacing investigations and on the other hand Tapani's nightly movements in the area, his anxiety and waiting. To this is tied Timo Harjunpää's worry for his wife, who is soon due to give birth to their second child.

I should say that my motivation with taking the pictures was not so much to find the locations and then imagine the events of the book there but to get to know more of my home city through looking for the locations and to see how much has changed since the late 70s.

Since I took so many pictures and because it takes such a long time to get them all edited, I decided to go in installments: post pictures of one location and include citations (my very unliterary translations) from the story. I've also included links to Google Maps. The pictures here in the first section are from Arabianranta. In the beginning of the story, Tapani is pictured here, and this is also where the police find the wreck of an old police bus that Tapani scorches. Arabianranta has changed considerably, particularly in the last 10 years. Please go to the end of the post to see how it's described in the story.

"The bank of Arabia had millions of those ceramic chunks, the whole embankment was made of them. With time's passage, wasteload after wasteload had been driven from the factory to the shore, and now discarded pieces of moulds, shattered dishes and parts of wash basins and toilet seats formed a mass that was 800 meters long and in places two meters tall. It had buried the rushes of the Old Town coastline, reaching from the Hanging Rock (map: see the rocks just below the word 'Arabiagatan' - they actually did hang people in the location hundreds of years ago) all the way to the end of Kaanaantie street (map). The bank did not have any humus. Here and there stood some fireweed, thistles, and in indentations some willows and cow parsley as thick as a man's thumb, but mostly the ground was bare, grey and lifeless like a disease-ravaged crown of the head. Alcoholics did not like the bank of Arabia, and not many passed through either. Someone curious might dig up a teapot missing a beak or a deaf coffee cup, but no one would stay for long. Tapani was perhaps the only person who liked that shore of failed objects that were fit only for a landfill. He had frequently come there during the summer. Even so, he, too, sometimes felt - especially when a saucer's half was crunched under his feet into smaller shards - as if he was walking in a cemetery. That's why Tapani did not walk around the shore but always came to the same spot. He would sit in the shade of a wide waste pipe for an hour, hour and a half, even two hours."

"There was haze in the air, as if smoke from a faraway forest fire. Lammassaari island and the bird trushes across the narrow bay were gleaming blue, and beyond the Old Town bay Kivinokka and Kulosaari island seemed almost grey. Tapani turned. The coast of Hermanninranta did not seem much more cheerful; smoky, bitter stench rose from the pipes of the incineration plant, the sea wallowed along the coastline, murky and heavy. His gaze moved to HKR's construction site barracks, stuck side by side; to train cars that seemed small in the distance; briefly fell on the rusty tin roof of a waste paper storage just visible beyond a maple wood copse; withdrew and remained, lost in thought, on an air house that was located in Arabia. It was grey, too, round at the ends, long and plump. It was like a larva lying helpless."

Don't get under a falling tree

2010-06-03T10:42:00.001+03:00

This shows why it's not a good idea. I came upon this one day in early May in a park not too far from where I live. The park has these old trees, many of which have rot in the roots. This must have been quite a crash! I actually took a snap of this with my cellphone and sent it to the local daily free paper, Metro. They put it on their website but not in the paper, so they didn't pay me anything.

Ah the joy (etc)

2010-06-01T19:32:00.007+03:00

This is one of the city blocks of old apartment buildings in Punavuori, taken in the inner courtyard. Early 20th century I believe. I love these buildings. It's the block you can see in the map link here, the square below the A pin. One archway leads into the courtyard from the Pikku-Roobertinkatu street and another from the other side of the block from the Ullanlinnankatu street. What with Google's street view: just double-click the A pin, click "street view"; then click once at the left-arrow to go one step along the street. If you then turn to view the archway, you can see a glimpse of the courtyard. I know concerns have been raised as to whether Google's thingy violates privacy, but I think it's pretty kewl: you can stay in street level and "walk" along the streets.

I've been rather overjoyed recently because I went ahead and bought a new lens for my camera, a 18-125 mm one by Sigma. I think I mentioned here in the blog that I managed to drop one of my lenses in the water down by the pier some months back. I had been planning to hold it out with the 55-250 mm one that was left, but finally got frustrated because there was so much I couldn't take pictures of: in the city streets you often don't have the space to back down sufficiently to get whatever you want to take a picture of to fit in the frame with a 55-250 mm. Like for example the interior courtyards of city blocks like in the picture above. The new lens is so much better than the one I had and with more range, as that one was 18-55 mm. And what's better is that the new lens was only 65 euros more expensive than the old one.

Other kind of photographs that I've missed are wide city landscapes. This is a part of the path of cargo train tracks that ran through here not too long ago. The cargo port was moved to eastern Helsinki, so the tracks became unnecessary and were removed. I think they're planning a biking route to replace them. If so, I do hope they'll let the greenery be and flourish!

Hopefully the new lens will also prove advantageous in the photo bureau, as it's good to be able to take quality pictures of a good range of subjects. Now I only need to find the time to sort out the ones to upload! Taking pictures is easy, but what takes an awful lot of time is going through and editing the RAW image files.

I came up with a new idea for photography: lately I've really been enjoying reading Finnish crime fiction, especially the ones that are set in Helsinki. So far only the Harjunpää books by Matti Yrjänä Joensuu, but I borrowed others at the library. What I'm planning is to take one of the books, go to all the locations mentioned and take pictures. The streets and houses in the stories are real, but since most of them were written in the 1980's, quite a bit is probably changed. Think I'll get to this next weekend, provided the weather is good. It takes a bit of planning, in terms of which book to get and how to get to the locations, some of which are in districts quite a distance from where I live. Should be fun.

Before that, in the next few days, I'm going to be trying to make further progress with the nucleus of a new article text I started yesterday and continued with today by reading some books on marriage, women and family in Athens. It's a prosopographic study on the foreign spouses of mixed marriages - all foreign women married to Athenian men - in Hellenistic Athens. I.e. I'm studying the ethnic appellations (e.g. Aphrodisia Milesia = Aphrodisia from Miletos) of the foreign spouses to find out where they originated from. Quite an interesting theme, and I think significant in terms of the question of social integration between Athenian and immigrant families. Of course, there is the question of whether such marriages indicate that the specific immigrant groups had a closer relationship with the Athenian population, or whether they are evidence of the integration of individual immigrant families with the citizen community. I need to dig and find out whether there's a way to find clues on this.

But now to reading non-research things: I got the book that I mentioned in the previous post, "Rööperi - The Years of Crime 1955-2005".

I love Helsinki

2010-05-26T11:05:00.007+03:00

Yesterday I had the most wonderful day of photographic wanderings in Punavuori, and once again my heart was filled with tremendous love for Helsinki. It sounds a bit dramatic, like how the characters speak in Victorian novels. But it's true, it's the place where I want to be - and luckily am!

Punavuori, Rödberget in Swedish, translates as 'Red Mountain'. It's one of the (locally) legendary inner city districts of Helsinki in the southern part of the city (map). The district's name comes from shore cliffs that used to be between the modern Sepänkatu and Punavuorenkatu streets and were called Rödberget in 17th century documents due to their reddish hue. Punavuori, though, did not become the official name of the district until 1959. The eastern part of the district has long had apartment buildings, whereas the western section, 'Rööperi' (city slang, comes from the Swedish name), was in the late 19th century an area of low, wooden working class housing. The wood houses were subsequently replaced with apartment buildings. Punavuori was still in the 1970s a restless working class district.

Nowadays the rough past is romanticized, which I'm sure is one of the reasons why the wealthier, trendy folks want to move there and add to the long-established local population. Their desire was probably not abated by Rööperi, a film that was made last year, about the professional criminals of the neighbourhood in the 60s and 70s. It's fictional but based on real events, on a book called 'Rööperi - the years of crime 1955-2005', by crime novelist Harri Nykänen and Tom Sjöberg, a former criminal who was himself born and did business in Punavuori. In reality there's nothing romantic about a city district controlled by criminals. Even so, this sort of a past gives Punavuori a certain edge and excitement, which are lacking for example in the otherwise similar neighbouring Ullanlinna, with its more upper-classy character. You have street cred if you can say that you have a place in Punavuori. The district's popularity is reflected in things like the proliferation of trendy design shops, cafes, bars, vinyl record stores and such.

The district is completely gentrified, but it remains an area of urban diversity. It also has an open and friendly, lively and young mood - not least because of the young student population for whom the area's many small apartments are ideal. The mood is why Punavuori is my favourite district of Helsinki, along with Kallio. The open mood seemed to me yesterday to be reflected in the open arch ways to the inner courtyards of the 100-year-old apartment buildings. The courtyards are sometimes almost labyrinthine, with other archways leading to other parts, narrow passages, edges and niches. Closed off from all sides (apart from the archways of course), you have the tall building walls rising up towards the sky around you, with balconies and windows. These buildings are not terribly tall, seven storeys at most, but one gets the impression of tallness and narrowness, as if of a chute. It's wonderful to go in the courtyards and look up and around and think about things. What was it like for a child 70, 80 years ago to grow up in such a place? What is it like now? They are their own world, these interiors of inner city blocks, so different from the 60s blocks of flats of the suburbs, let alone the single-family houses of the countryside.

***

The previous time when I was thinking about how happy I am to live in Helsinki was on sunday. It was another day of walking and finding things - a fan's dedication, misspelt, oddly moving, to Michael Jackson, written on a bench by the Töölönlahti bay; in Kamppi, a neighbouring district to Punavuori, behind a closed kiosks and close to a public toilet, a small, wooden stand which someone had humorously named 'Griin Stage'; a big, pink heart and the message 'love each other', painted on the wall of the aforementioned kiosk. In between my wanderings I went to Kiasma, the museum of modern art, and as usual found something that elevated my spirit. I was particularly impressed by the video installation of Finnish and Swedish artists, with a series of video screens hung up as if in a forest, each of the screens showing in turn a conflict situation in different professions. The installation seemed to me a powerful comment on the modern working life. I was also affected by the exhibition of Denise Grünstein, one of Sweden's foremost photographers, especially the series depicting human figures in nature, sometimes mysterious, sometimes even threatening. Click HERE for one of the pictures. My day ended perfectly with a free concert of the youth choir Cantores Minores in one of the churches. I'll just repeat what I said in Facebook: "Moved by the glorious, beautiful music; amazed that human voices can create such complex, magnificent worlds of sound. And Sibelius' Finlandia as third and final encore."

To end, one thing (one of the many things) I'm amazed about is the (seemingly) sudden explosion of green in the city. It is green everywhere where there are trees lining the streets - like there are in the pedestrian section of the Iso-Roobertin katu street in Punavuori. Of course they are there in winter too but you sort of don't register them because of the bare branches. It's quite amazing how the green, especially the exuberant green of spring and early summer, changes a street.

The Odyssey

2010-05-22T23:11:00.008+03:00

This is an old picture of mine, one that I took in November 2008 and I've posted it before. But it's related to something I've been thinking of recently. I originally named the picture A Shopping Cart's Odyssey, jokingly, to give the shopping cart's adventure in the woods an appropriately Homeric character - as befits someone like me who dabbles in ancient things by way of work. Recently, though, I was thinking that it actually fits what is going on these days. The Enron scandal, the absurdly large bonuses of industry execs, the depression, and so on. You could certainly say that the capitalist economic system is looking for direction, couldn't you?

Money's a weird thing isn't it? The way I see it, money in itself has no negative or positive moral or ethical value. It is simply a medium which enables people to obtain the necessities and pleasures of life, to buy services and goods. Money only acquires a moral or ethical value depending on how it's obtained and used. I'm not against money nor do I think it is evil. I very much enjoy the pleasures that money can get when I happen to have it (conversely, now I don't happen to have that much money, and I don't mind that either). I don't mind some people being richer than others, as long as the acquirement of wealth and its use has not caused suffering to others. Even so, it is very absurd that money has very much become a value in itself. It's always been so in the whole human history of course, and I know this is not a new thing to say, but that is where the problems stem from. Money as an independent value has become more and more emphasized in the past couple of decades, with the multinational corporations aiming for greater and greater profits at any cost. It's as if the race towards bigger and bigger profits has become some sort of a sacred objective that justifies any means.

I could really rant about this a long time, but I'll end this with some wise words by Douglas Adams:

Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-two million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea. This planet has - or rather had - a problem, which was this: most of the people on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy. And so the problem remained; lots of the people were mean, and most of them were miserable, even the ones with digital watches.

Miniature sun

2010-05-20T20:34:00.002+03:00

Lesser celandine, one of those small flowers so modest in form compared to the flowers of the tropic but somehow I like it more because it grows wild here. This, though, was in the botanical gardens where they grow in large mats. They're so beautiful aren't they, like tiny little suns.

Time, where doth it go?

2010-05-17T16:42:00.005+03:00

Do you ever get the feeling that days should be twice as long as they are? I don't mean only in the sense of too much work but in there being so many things you'd enjoy doing but there isn't time for all of them in a day? Right now, for instance, I would like to get photos edited but the warm days are tempting me to just go out and spend most of the day outside in the park reading. I shall of course do the latter, as the book I'm reading is wonderful - Doris Lessing's The Sweetest Dream - and it makes no sense to waste a brilliant day away by sitting indoors at the computer.

So, I indeed did make the sea journey to the city during the weekend. A warm, sunny summer day sitting on the roof of the boat, a refreshing yet warm sea breeze in my hair and on my face. Just wonderful. I have been to all of the places the boat passes (well, excepting the stretches of shore that are private property) but it's so very cool to see your home city from a different angle. Here are a few pictures.

And now it's off to the park with the book, not forgetting sunscreen and a bottle of water!

The spring most beautiful

2010-05-15T09:21:00.009+03:00

For me, the most beautiful sight in the spring are the slender, young birch trees with their white bark and the new leaves of fresh, exuberant green. I spent most of the day yesterday in the park reading (barefoot of course, oh how my toes enjoyed it!) and in the evening took a stroll in the neighbourhood. It's astounding how it is suddenly green everywhere! I know it didn't happen overnight, but it feels like it did. And the woods are full of windflowers, the flower that welcomes the summer.

Today it's even warmer than yesterday. I'm hoping to take a sea journey to the city centre. I discovered/remembered that there's a boat line that goes from a pier nearby all the way to Hakaniemi in the city centre, along the coasts and past numerous islands. I think the journey takes about 40 minutes. Should be amazing. And certainly different to the usual metro ride, huh? When I say 'hoping', I mean if I looked at the schedule correctly. The boat only goes twice daily in May, in the morning and early evening. Well, if I miss the morning boat, I can go to the city and take the boat ride from Hakaniemi back home at 5 pm.

Sitting in the grass...

2010-05-14T01:06:00.001+03:00

There's nothing photographically interesting about this picture whatsoever. It's just for illustration. I was just so happy that today was the first day I could sit in the grass and feel the summer warmth. It suddenly got warm yesterday and today was a proper summer weather. Tomorrow (friday) it's going to be warmer still. I didn't take my shoes off today but I will tomorrow because it's such a wonderful feeling, bare toes in new grass. Of course here you have to be careful with tics. But just for a little bit! My only sorrow is that the balcony is out of bounds due to the facade and balcony renovation. Would be so heavenly to be able to lie in my deck chair in the balcony tomorrow. But at least I can go to the park nearby, or to find a good spot by the shore.

The joy of colour

2010-05-11T16:48:00.005+03:00

I was somehow reminded of Patsy's words in defence of Eddy when Saffy reproached her for STILL not having done anything about the kitchen: "Maybe this is it... What is the difference between someone who chooses to paint like a child and a child's painting?" (Patsy of course had been the cause of the kitchen's chaotic state because she had burned it down by falling asleep - or more likely, passing out - with a burning cigarette in hand).

In all seriousness, I don't know much about art, but this painting really made me think that if it had been painted by a grown-up artist with an intentionally chosen naivistic style, the work might well be much praised and in some good gallery somewhere. This is one of a large series of paintings decorating the pedestrian underpass by the Kulosaari metro station, painted by the pupils of the local elementary school. There was plenty that I liked but this one in particular struck me due to it's bright, bold use of colour and the wonderful sense of unreal that is there in the depicted scenery. It is as if the mountains (?) at the front could in fact be fire mountains or trees, whose flames JUST fail to reach the lone house at the edge of a strange desert land where the sun never changes colour or goes down and the sky always has the same bright blue tone.

Just thoughts and feelings created by my own imagination and associations of mind of course. What does the picture make you think?

Divine music, and other things

2010-05-09T21:00:00.011+03:00

I experienced some quite divine music today: the Mother's Day concert of Cantores Minores, the Cathedral Choir of the city cathedral of Helsinki. They were founded in 1952 and are the best boy choir in Finland (minors as the name tells although the singers include some young men for male voices as well), with an extensive regular repertoire of the oratorios, passion plays and requiems by the great composers. They regularly tour all across Europe but also in the U.S. and Asia. My younger nephew is in the music play school group of the choir (5-6 year olds), which also performed at the concert. The little boys were of course totally adorable, but the divine music was offered by the Cantores Minores proper. Their program included Bach's Ave Maria and several other numbers. There is something quite extraordinary in a choir with a perfect harmony of voices. As for my nephew's choir's performance, of course I was beaming all through. How could I not? I'm his auntie. :-)

Here is a picture that I took one beautiful evening recently in the park nearby. Black and white seemed to work for this occasion. I like coniferous trees so much, fir trees and pine trees. They have strength and calm and they seem to fit in this northern climate.

Asfalttimetsän lehtiä

2010-05-07T22:39:00.003+03:00

Maybe it's just my browser, but it seems to me that blogger uploads pictures in a poorer quality than it used to? Click on the picture to see in larger size, it looks sharper that way.

"Leaves of the asphalt forest" is what the title is in English, but my modest little play on words only works in Finnish: you see "lehti" means both "leaf" and "paper" or "magazine".

Clarity

2010-05-06T14:32:00.006+03:00

At the southern sea-side in Helsinki, a bit further along the shore from the section Val and I walked (see previous post).

I was wondering: is the spring light brighter up here in the north? I tend to imagine that it is. At least I know that at this time of the year there is more and more light more north you go. In Utsjoki, which is the northernest bit of Finland that you can possibly get to, about 1200 kilometers from Helsinki (map - scroll down the entire length of the country to see Helsinki), the sun rises today at 3.15am and sets at 11.08pm (compare Helsinki: 5.04am and 21.31pm). Come midsummer in Utsjoki, the sun will shine 24 hours a day. Literally. It doesn't set at all. Here it will set for five hours.

I was also thinking about the different kinds of light.

The word for spring light is 'clarity', because of the way it outlines everything with its almost harsh, blaring brightness.

Summer's light is more even with its long, all-encompassing warmth.

Autumn brings a new kind of softness and a hint of weariness to the light.

Winter's light is already exhausted at the moment it rises and from that moment on is merely rushing to get back to sleep. In Utsjoki it doesn't even get out of bed.

Hopefully the sun is shining today wherever everyone is.

Ah it's May again!

2010-05-04T08:32:00.004+03:00

For me the month changed in a particularly memorable way, because I had the supreme pleasure of enjoying the visit of blogger friend Val. She is a very very special person, so it was a joy all around.

FRIDAY. May Day's eve. It was supposed to be mostly cloudy with rains of shower but actually it was sunny and warm for most of the day! We met at the Senate Square at 10.30, and after rejuvenating ourselves with coffee at the university cafe headed out on a walk along the southern sea front and Merisatama (Sea Harbour) at the southern tip of Helsinki, in the districts of Kaivopuisto and Ullanlinna. On a sunny day it's a really enjoyable walk along the promenade, and you can pop into the Kaivopuisto park, from the highest point of which the view towards the sea is magnificent. There are also several small islands just off the shore, accessible by regular boat lines (run by the sailing associations I believe), my favourite being Harakka, which used to be owned and controlled by the army and has rich bird life.

From the Sea Harbour we headed back to the Senate Square and Kruununhaka for lunch in Pompei, a tiny, true Italian trattoria. You can't beat their pizzas and pastas, and our veggie pasta did not disappoint.

After lunch, Snellmaninkatu street took us directly to the market square by the harbour, and there we caught the ferry to the Suomenlinna sea fortress. On a beautiful spring day it's the place to be, to wander along the cliffs and battlements looking out at the sea and listening to the waves. Historically it is fascinating too, the naval dockyard being particularly interesting. It was built in the 18th century for the Swedish coastal fleet and is still used for repairing and renovating old sailing boats and vessels. I feel lucky to have a place like Suomenlinna so close to Helsinki and so easily accessible (the ferries go every 20 minutes in summer time and are part of the city public transportation). Although the ferry takes only 10-15 minutes, it feels like a sea journey, and the islands of Suomenlinna are a different, more peaceful place, with a village feel. About 800 people live there permanently, and I wouldn't mind being one of them. Well, in spring and summer at least: in winter the icy winds easily sweep the islands. For visiting Suomenlinna, I think the spring is the best time, because in the summer's tourist season the place can get a bit crowded.

Our visit to Suomenlinna was excellently timed, because coming back we had just enough time for a cup of coffee before watching Manta receive her cap again together with about 50 000 people. This is an annual tradition that has been going on for decades, although I think it has become such a huge media event only in recent history. To go all anthropological, basically it's a pagan rite to welcome the spring. The ceremony starts Vappu in Helsinki and after it everyone is allowed to wear their student caps for that evening and the next day. I put on mine symbolically but did not wear it for long because it's a fairly silly piece of headwear.

SATURDAY. May Day/Labour Day. Cold and windy. Despite the weather, I headed out to Hakaniemi market square to see some of the Labour Day celebration of the social democrats and the Leftfield Union. Lots of people, live music, stands with food and coffee (vendace fried in butter, the supreme Finnish market food; crepes), was quite enjoyable. Then the Labour Day march came by, all red flags in the wind and stern, serious socialist songs. It felt somehow surreal, the songs slightly out of place.

SUNDAY. Sunny and warm again, a day of supremely enjoyable slow, free wandering. I love such days, just starting out and walking without any particular destination, seeing what comes up. First I went to the sunday market in Hakaniemi and enjoyed a crepes, then headed out to Kallio. It's my favourite district in all of Helsinki I think. A former working class neighbourhood, now the locale of artists, students and the like, it seems to have more life than the "fine" centre on the other side of Pitkäsilta ("long bridge", see the Kallio link). I don't think I would want to live in Kallio though, because you get the alcoholics hanging around the metro stations all the time. Among the things encountered: an adorable "missing" notice for a beloved turtle soft toy posted by a child, probably at most a first-grader, judging by the notice which was in wobbly block letters and with spelling errors. TURT-LE-HAS-ES-CA-PD-DIS-TIC-TIV-MARKS-IS-BROWN-SHELL-AND-O-RIN-GE-SPOTS... I do hope someone finds the greatly missed and obviously loved turtle. At first I thought the notice was for a missing pet but then saw the addition "if you find this soft toy, call...". My steps next took me to Vallila to the big flea market, located in a large former factory hall. What an enjoyable day.

MONDAY. The weather was identical to that of sunday, yet I didn't have difficulty in motivating myself to go to the university library to do some work. In fact I was considering another photography trek, but didn't feel like it. The mood was more for work. In the evening I met up with Val again by the opera house, and we walked around the Gulf of Töölö, across the train tracks, along Tokoinranta (a quay in Hakaniemi) and on to Kruununhaka for dinner at a restaurant. Excellent food, a bottle of wine and three hours of conversation. What a good evening.

Val is flying back to Holland today and it seems a good day to go, because it's again cold, windy and pouring rain. Oh, now it's sleet actually. One thing I would like to know is, why do the workmen do the noisiest work (drilling and all) just when the weather is absolutely dismal and you would like to have a nice day at home?

Alright, enough with the complaining. Thank you so much, Val, and have a safe trip home!

This blog is still alive - just

2010-04-24T19:04:00.003+03:00

Pheewww, it's been a long time, partially it's been plain old boredness with the blog, partially just all sorts of things have taken up my time, work and other things.

I DIDN'T get the museum job that I applied for a couple of months ago. I'm not really surprised, the times being what they are: there were 211 applicants for one position, so clearly everyone who thought they had a chance applied. At the moment I have no funding so I'm just trying to get published and send applications, fingers crossed that something will turn up. One article I have already sent, it was based on the conference paper from last August, about interaction between citizens and foreigners in the religious life of Hellenistic Athens. A volume is being compiled of the papers of the conference, to be published by the Finnish Institute in Rome, but there's still a review so I don't know if it'll get accepted. The other article I'm just about finishing and am hoping to get it printed and sent early next week. I have a handful of alternatives (international journals of the field), so if this first one doesn't want it, I'll try another one. In any case, even if the journal does accept it, the process may take months. So, all there is to do is to wait and see. I'm of course also keeping my eyes open for job possibilities.

Quite a lot more advance has happened in another field: the photography thing has taken off. I've already two photos sold through the photo bureau since the start of this year, and I got one of my pictures in page two of last week's edition of a fairly big weekly paper. It's a church paper but with a circulation of a bit over 200 000 so it's excellent publicity - and yes, they did include my name with the picture. Below is the picture - taken in the old cemetery of Helsinki on Easter weekend, at which time there was a fog which created an appropriate atmosphere indeed.

And now it is spring, and what could be better than that? Granted, in the recent days it has been a rather cold and rainy spring, but spring nonetheless. And spring can only turn into summer. The other weekend (when it was warm and sunny) I had such a brilliant day in Suomenlinna. A hint of tar in the air in the dock area - real or an imagined scent from the bygone days of sailing ships? Walking on the cliffs and battlements - the sun and warm; the sounds of the sea, the waves, the cries of the sea gulls. My round ended with coffee and mouth-melting home made apple pie in the delightful little cafe of the toy and doll museum, out on the terrace of course. Those sort of days make you want to write odes to the spring, like the poets of old did. I did, too, but only in my imagination, as I am not blessed with the gift of poetry.

Oops again!

2010-01-25T01:27:00.006+02:00

I really don't know where time always goes! I meant to update my blog earlier but somehow time passed... Let's see, what in terms of news.

I went to the unemployment office again after my research grant term officially ended on the 14th of this month. In December they had decided that I am not entitled to receive unemployment money because I was still "self-employed" with the research grant, but now they changed their decision, so I was able to fill the application form for the unemployment benefit and send it off. Hopefully I won't have to stay on it for a long time; it's just so troublesome, having to submit accounts every four weeks: you have to fill a list and mark on every day whether you have been unemployed, ill, employed full time, employed part time. You can't even say "unemployed every day for the past four weeks, you have to fill in every day separately. There are a few research grants open for application in February, but I also decided to apply for a position as museum guide at the Helsinki city museum. I don't have work experience of the field one month's summer job 13-14 years ago notwithstanding. As for their other requirement, interest in history, I guess I can tick the check box fairly confidently on that, having gone all the way to the doctorate. We'll see. It would be something I could imagine doing, because I'm genuinely interested in the local history of Helsinki. Also, as the world goes, I'm not sure it's wise for a humanities person to have all the eggs in one basket, so to speak.

I have been doing writing work on articles. I've three texts that are mostly. One I'm going to pass on for review to the volume that's going to be compiled of the papers at the conference I went to last August. The other two I'm going to try for some journals. Gotta have academic merits, see. Sometimes there are really good days with the writing, like on thursday I really enjoyed it. The inspiration and the ideas were there. But often it's something entirely different. I might start on the computer and suddenly feel immensely sleepy even though I had been completely alert the moment before. Or I might sit at the computer and no idea would come to my head. It's funny really how something being work can change things, even if that something is basically interesting.

Still cold, minus 15 celsius or so. The birch trees in their dress of white frost are so beautiful, but really I'm getting bored with the cold. I wish it was warmer already.

This is from one magical day last November. The mist and the light were something I have never seen before.

And a snow picture - or rather snow on the ice on the bay. Light here as well. I like this shot, the minimalism of the small pawn prints and the stick and its shadow. One cool thing about it being so cold is that the ice is now thick enough to walk on. I can walk to the islands close by. The closest one is just 50-100 meters away across the ice. Kind of funny: in the summer there's a regular boat line going to the island and that costs 4 euros for two ways. That's more than a regional ticket for the public transportation that's valid for all of Helsinki and the neighbouring cities of Vantaa and Espoo!

And finally, if someone would like to hear a great song and watch a really cool video, check out this one: Watching the Planets by The Flaming Lips.

It is something quite different. Quite weird - though from another perspective not at all weird, considering it's The Flaming Lips. I love it, both the song and the video. It was shot in Portland, Oregon. Americans have a reputation of being prudish about things like nudity. Clearly they are not in Portland. I think I'd like to visit.

Winter wonderland

2010-01-12T11:23:00.002+02:00

Snow

2010-01-09T12:22:00.006+02:00

Kind of just playing around. I'm endlessly fascinated by the sun on pure, white, untouched snow. Another sunny day now, so I'm off with my camera again. It's only early January but already I'm in an optimistic mood. It feels like the sun is out more often than before Christmas, and the day has already got half an hour longer. That might not seem like much but it can only get better now!

Sometimes it's not a good idea to sing 'happy birthday'

2010-01-06T13:51:00.006+02:00

Absolutely no reason to post this other than that I love these ladies. Incredible impersonation by Jennifer Saunders.

Marilyn Monroe: Oh Janey, I've got a surprise for you!
Jane Russell: Don't sing 'happy birthday', Marilyn.
Marilyn Monroe: It's not 'happy birthday'!
Jane Russell: Good.
Marilyn Monroe (singing): Happy birthday to...
Jane Russell: You want a stiletto up your tush?
Marilyn Monroe: ... you (stops) Okay. (Jane Russell exits) It wasn't 'happy birthday', was it ?!

The moon rises

2010-01-03T11:35:00.002+02:00

I took this on Christmas day actually. It's full moon now, or was last night anyway. Should go out and get wintery moon pictures, but it's so cold out there. I should get quilted overalls. Well, the moon has got to be in the top 5 of most photographed subjects so it's not like there's a lack of moon photographs around.

I got my first picture sold through the photo bureau I'm a member of, woohoo! The picture that was sold was this: LINK. Buyer was the Ministry of the Environment, no less! Hopefully they'll use the picture for some publication of great visibility. ;-)

Oops!

2009-12-29T01:52:00.003+02:00

I am very sorry to have neglected my blog for such a long time! I blame Facebook but really it's just an excuse.

I've had a very lovely, quiet, traditional Christmas time visiting my parents up north. Christmas Eve (the big celebration takes place on the Eve rather than the Day in Finland) was traditional: sauna, Christmas dinner, presents, mass in the evening. I felt really elevated by the mass: the lights, the joyful hymns of praise (like 'Oh Come All Ye Faithful' by John Francis Wade - hymn 27 in Finland) and how they sounded with the organ. My only complaint is that people did not sing loudly enough. With that sort of joyful songs, they should sing their heart out and sing out loud if they come to the church!

Otherwise during the holidays I've done a bit of writing work and watched French & Saunders and Absolutely Fabulous; I've got the box set of the complete series of both (though sadly they don't include the specials) and I'm such a huge fan. Absolutely Fabulous is, apart from making me laugh more than just about anything, one of the most psychologically perceptive comedy shows I've seen. And French & Saunders... well, it's just pure brilliance.

It has been really cold on most days until, minus 27 Celsius at lowest, but I have done some forays outdoors, dressed in several layers of cotton, wool, skiing overalls and mittens - once to take an oxygen trip in the form of wading around the field through the snow at a brisk pace (a real power exercise that!); and once to take some pictures. Temperatures of below minus 20 C are funny in that only then does it begin to look like everything is frozen solid and standing still out there. It doesn't feel like that when it's only -15 C or so. Another special thing about the very very very cold temperatures is that they often create an extraordinarily beautiful blue, sleep-like atmosphere. Here's a picture - this one taken through the window.

I'm travelling back home to Helsinki on wednesday. I'll be trying to go see the city's New Year things on New Year's Eve although if it's too cold I suppose I might just watch it all on telly.

Here's hoping everyone will have a good 2010!

A winter day is white, blue and silent

2009-12-15T22:02:00.002+02:00

It really is. I'm happy because proper winter has arrived. It has snowed and the temperature fell to minus 10 degrees celsius. A short, brisk walk in the cold air (properly, warmly dressed of course) is incredibly invigorating. Today I really enjoyed the nibbling of the cold on the cheeks, the dry sound of the -10 C snow under the heels and even the familiaring stinging, tingling sensation when your fingers get a bit cold (and no, I didn't go barehand, I'm not a fool - I had thick mittens on my hands).

Here is an image of melancholy beauty: fallen, brown maple leaves covered by frost.

Warm wishes

2009-12-05T15:48:00.006+02:00

If you stare at the picture long enough, you can almost see the flames fluttering.

I bought a lot of candles yesterday, in an attempt to bring some warm, cosy light into the dark. For a couple of days it looked like it was going to get colder; proper winter coming and all that. But no, it's again well above zero, wet, cloudy. Of course, even if it gets colder it doesn't mean it will snow. Oh, it's also dark, obviously. That goes without saying. I wonder if December is going to be the same as November?

All the same: warm thoughts to all!

Update

2009-12-01T15:23:00.001+02:00

Didn't get it. Bah.

Anticipation

2009-12-01T12:20:00.002+02:00

I have feelings of anticipation, to put it mildly. They are going to decide about the research grants I applied for today, so I'm waiting to see if they're going to put up the info on their website soon. It's a Finnish foundation connected to the Kone company, which is one of the leading businesses in the world in the field of elevators and escalators - so, one of those foundations started by industry magnates who wanted to become patrons of culture. I have no idea of my chances, but last year they approved 19% of the applications, which is pretty good for foundations awarding grants. It would be good because it's a bit over 25 000 euros for 12 months. If I don't get it I will have to apply for the unemployment money at least for some time, while I apply for other things. There's one grant application that's still open, but they don't decide on it until February. The unemployment money isn't much financially, but it's not too bad for a limited time, and I also have a small amount of savings. I just hate applying for such things, with all the millions of appendices you have to have with the application etc. Oh well...

Otherwise things are fairly ordinary. It is November. It rains and rains and rains and is cloudy every day. I have got some work done on the papers I'm working on. At least there are things to celebrate: last sunday was my younger nephew's first gig with the choir he's in - it's the small children's music play school (or whatever you could call it in English) of Cantores Minores, which is a famous boys' choir here; their Christmas concerts are sold out well in advance each year, etc. My nephew's choir performed at a children's church service for the first Advent. They sang three songs connected to the Advent theme and did very well. An immensely adorable sight too, about ten little boys in their best clothes, white shirts, hair neatly combed etc. This coming weekend is my younger nephew's birthday - he'll reach the proud age of 5.

To end, here is a hitherto unreleased and unseen U2 video that was discovered in the vaults not too long ago:

And this particular thing works on so many levels, and I'm sure especially the ladies can relate to it:

I completely adore these two ladies.

Where is he going and where coming from?

2009-11-22T22:34:00.006+02:00

Another image of misty beauty

2009-11-20T11:22:00.001+02:00

Magical Mist

2009-11-19T20:15:00.004+02:00

This was today, in the morning and early afternoon.

I have been complaining about November, and never would I have thought to see this kind of a November day. It was both sunny and misty, which gave the air a silvery, soft gleam. But when I got to the bay I saw the most amazing, white mist above the water, flowing and swirling, like straight from the world of myth. It was gone after 1 pm and the sun didn't stay much longer.

Two November moods

2009-11-15T19:09:00.002+02:00

Monday, November 9th

Wednesday, November 11th

It's quite amazing how the mood can change from one day to another, and all that is needed is a bit of sun. But, for some weird reason I also like the mood of the first picture, melancholy as it is. Maybe it's something to do with Finnish mentality? Generally speaking, though, I wouldn't mind if the year skipped straight from early October to the late January or so.

Having quite a lovely weekend: it was my elder nephew's 10th birthday, so I went with my parents who have been visiting. Also present were, in addition to the whole of my brother's family of course, my sister and her boyfriend, my sister-in-law's brother and his wife. The food was wonderful, as is always the case with the stuff prepared by my sister-in-law, and lively time was had with a house full of people (one of whom is a highly energetic almost-5-year-old). My elder nephew is very much a rock guy, so I got him a t-shirt of his favourite band and also a wall flag. They seemed to be to his liking.

November Mist

2009-11-13T00:14:00.001+02:00

A lonely flight under the moon

2009-11-10T00:16:00.004+02:00

My favourite among the photos that I took the other night when I managed to drop one of my lenses in the water - my favourite, that is, among the pictures I have gone through and edited so far.

(By the way, in my browser, at least, the small picture looks odd - like it was heavily compressed. So if you have the same problem, be sure to open it in larger size in a different window).

2009-11-06T10:57:00.005+02:00

Just a randomly chosen picture. This dog was definitely seeing to his siesta. This was on the walkway that goes around the Acropolis and is for a good section barred from cars. I was wondering because I kept seeing lots of dogs running around free, all with tagged collars. I don't think Athenian owners would let their pets run free in the city, as that would be too dangerous, so I'm pretty sure the authorities have collared and tagged the stray dogs to be able to monitor them.

I'm a bit under the weather unfortunately. Yesterday I had a fever of 38 C. After resting for most of yesterday - reading Minister Jim Hacker's diaries from Yes, Minister - and after a good night's sleep the fever was gone in the morning, but I'll have to see what happens today. I'm very annoyed about the timing because just on wednesday I bought a ticket for a concert which would be this evening. Only 10 euros so financially not a great loss, but I'm a big fan of the artist, a Finnish singer-songwriter called Jarkko Martikainen who is one of the best lyricists in the country. Fingers crossed that I'll feel well enough to go in the evening.

Gentle beauty

2009-11-03T21:38:00.003+02:00

Here's an image of delicate beauty. This is from the National Gardens in Athens.

My trip to Athens took a slight negative turn towards the end: my wallet was stolen last thursday; the thief got two credit cards and some cash. The old story: a rush hour crowded bus and a moment of carelessness on my part. I was alright money-wise though, since my brother sent some money via Western Union. It's easy enough to get new credit cards, just takes some time to wait. It is very annoying though. Despite this my trip was very successful: the Blegen Library is absolutely brilliant and I got lots of work done; I saw quite a lot of things; and the hostel of the Finnish Institute is really homely and comfortable. In the end, though, I must admit that I don't like modern Athens very much, one of the problems being the pollution. For those travelling to Greece I might actually recommend primarily staying somewhere outside of Athens and making day trips to the city for the sights.

Now that I'm home I'm enjoying the clean air, even though it is cold. However, I was not spared from further misfortune - one that I can only blame myself for: I was out there by the pier earlier today, photographing the magnificent moon. Standing just by the water, I began to change lenses, mittens in hands (because it was cold). As I was doing that, I thought to myself: "Better be careful so the lens doesn't fall into the water." And just then, the lens I was detaching from the camera slipped from my hands and plop fell into the murky depths. At least it was just the cheap kit lens which wasn't very good. But d'oh indeed. Had I but stood my back towards the water, the lens would have rolled away from it. Well, then again, in that case the lens might rolled into the street and been driven over by a car.

Such a perfect day

2009-10-28T20:38:00.006+02:00

It was a national holiday in Greece today, so I had a day off. The Acropolis ticket that I bought a couple of weeks ago includes free entrance to several other sites, so I decided to go visit the ancient cemetery of Kerameikos. It was a vale of peace in the metropolis: to walk amidst the olive and cyprus trees and the ancient ruins, in the greenery, listening to the birds, watching white butterflies play in the mellow, warm air... I could hear the traffic in the nearby streets but all the same the peace was such that the ancient cemetery really felt like a sanctuary.

The Kerameikos museum houses some of the impressive pieces of Attic funerary sculpture art of the 5th and 4th centuries B.C., which survived until the last decade of the 4th century, when the tyrant of Athens, Demetrios of Phaleron, passed a law forbidding excessive spending on the grave monuments. This particular work of art moved me deeply. It is the grave relief of Ampharete, from 430-420 BC, and the inscription above the relief says, approximately: "Here I hold the beloved child of my daughter, which I held on my knees when we were alive and saw the light of the sun, and now in death I hold it, dead."

From the Kerameikos I decided to go to the Syntagma square and take the tram to the seaside in Palaio Faliro, a trip that takes about 45 minutes due to the many stops. The metro would be faster but the tram allows seeing much more of Athens. Faliro is located next to Pireus on the seaside. In the antiquity the area was called Phaleron - the above-mentioned tyrant was from there - and had the harbour of Athens before Pireus took that role. How I wish I had packed a swimsuit when leaving Finland! I had to settle for walking along the shore, marvelling at the immensity of the open sea and the straight line of the sea's horizon. I picked some beautiful, white stones, hewn smooth by the waves, to take home as a keepsake.

This is probably my last blog update in Greece: there are two whole days left, and then on saturday evening I'm flying back to Finland. Of course, there will be lots and lots of pictures to post back home.

Mare nostrum

2009-10-24T18:24:00.005+03:00

Mare nostrum

"Our sea", that's what the Romans began to call it after they had conquered all the shores of the Mediterranean Sea. I went to Pireus today, and walked around the entire promontory, or whatever one should call it (look up "Piraeus, Greece" in google maps: I started from the metro station and then headed south to the roundish part and walked around it), along the Akti Themistokleous that follows the shoreline. Themistokles, in case someone's interested, was a fellow who in the 480's B.C. persuaded the Athenians to build a fleet of 200 ships, which was then victorious against the Persians in the battle of Salamis in 480 B.C. If I remember correctly, Themistokles was also responsible for fortifying Pireus, the port. But, wilfull as the Athenian democracy occasionally was, Themistokles was ostracized* in the following decade and banished. I can't recall the reason exactly, but he died without being able to return to Athens - although subsequently he was rehabilitated and venerated as a hero. It was about 24 C, cloudy and very humid though it didn't rain more than a few drops, so I greatly enjoying walking along the seafront, looking out on the Aegean and thinking of things like what might the ancient Athenians thought of the sea. They respected it for sure: it was the thing to do for sea travellers to ask for the favour of the appropriate deities before their journey, so that they might make the passage in safety. A funny thing happened at one point too: this old feller stopped me and said something in Greek. When I indicated I couldn't understand, he asked in clear English: "How long are you here for?" I said: "Just one week more", whereupon he asked "where are you from?" When I answered "Finland", he said "Ok, let's go have coffee." At this point I politely declined, and he left, saying "ok, bye bye." He had that weather-beaten look of a fisherman, but given the fact that his English was fairly fluent - not too common in Greece - he most likely was the proprietor of one of the restaurants nearby and was thus trying to tempt a tourist to come to his restaurant.

Pireus can be reached from central Athens on the metro in about half an hour. The metro line follows the ancient Long Walls: these two parallel walls, with a road running between, used to connect Pireus to Athens about 2400 years ago. They were torn down and restored a couple of times at least, but in the 2nd century B.C. Athens no longer had the resources to restore them. In the ancient times the port was a hugely cosmopolitan place, with merchants from as far as Phoinikia, Syria and Egypt, with all kinds of exotic cults being practiced and so on. I guess it's still cosmopolitan in the sense of all the ships and ferries arriving carrying passengers from all over. All the merchants are Greek, though, and the religion is Orthodox (Greek Catholic) Christianity.

*This was a system where the Athenian citizens could vote for the banishment of a politician, and if there were enough votes, the banishment was put into action. The votes were given on ostraka, shards of pottery, from which the name.

Aah, weekend!

2009-10-23T20:42:00.004+03:00

One of the countless stray cats in Athens. I guess they're not too badly off what with the climate, and also there must be plenty of rats in the city and cats are of course hunters by nature. I snapped this above Plaka, below the Acropolis. The Acropolis would be rising to the left of the picture.

As a side note, it's technically wrong to call it the Acropolis, with capital A, because in ancient times there were many acropoleis: dwellings were typically build on hill tops due to the security these locations offered. So it was the case with Athens too, in Mycenaean times in the 2nd millenium B.C. In the 1st millenium inhabitation spread below the hill, and eventually the acropolis was reserved for sacral use only. Now it's of course known as The Acropolis because... well, because it's famous.

I've been so busy with work this week I haven't had the time to blog. Having said that, I enjoy working at the Blegen Library of the American School of Classical Studies. For instance only this morning I was thinking "My it's ever so nice to get up early and head out to the library!" It's such a brilliant library, because it has everything. Anything I might be looking for, they have it. The library also feels like such a solemn place: the readers going about their business and quietly concentrating on finding knowledge (I know, there's a practical explanation: the rule is "no talking"). The American School has long traditions, having been founded in the 19th century, but the traditions don't show in stubborn stickling to the old ways of doing things simply because they are the tradition. On the contrary, the school and the library have excellent database systems, research equipment etc. It's all due to funding. It's interesting how the U.S. is supposed to be a "young" culture but it still is willing to give more money to the research of these old things than the old continent. Not that I know how the funding is organised. Maybe it's a bunch of rich mesenates.

Apart from working at the library, on wednesday I went to the Finnish institute to talk with the boss about the article I'm working on (he was my PhD opponent). He had great comments to give, so I was very happy. The Finnish institute doesn't have much money but it IS located below the Acropolis just a few blocks away which is not too bad. The American School is nowhere near, in comparison.

Now I really do deserve the weekend. I don't have any fixed plans. I might go to the site where Aristotle used to have his philosophical school. I'll probably visit Pireus, the port of Athens. You can get there by metro. About 2400 years ago the port town was connected to Athens by long walls, in between which ran a road. The walls were razed down and repaired a couple of times, until finally in the 2nd century BC Athens no longer had the resources to repair them. Maybe I'll walk around Pireus along the shores. I want to see the Mediterranean.

To end, another thing I like about Greece is manners. It's considered good manners to greet people you encounter with a "good morning/good day", like when you buy something at a kiosk. I like that. One thing I hope to do, though, is to catch a couple of courses of modern Greek, because not that many speak English fluently here. I tend to feel embarrassed about not being able to speak modern Greek beyond simple things like ordering stuff at a fast food place. Sometimes I feel it would be easier to be like a certain percentage of American tourists who are quite confident to speak English and if other people don't understand them it's their problem.

Oh, not to worry, I won't start fuming about tourists again. And I do know American tourists aren't the only ones whose behaviour is so very, well, touristy. In fact, for instance the Brits are considered the absolute nightmare in many resorts...

Autumn in Athens

2009-10-18T19:44:00.004+03:00

Citrus trees are pretty common here; there are some right by the corner of this building for instance. It looks like a lime in the picture, but they're really satsumas or the like because they turn yellow when ripe. They're not edible of course, far too much pollution.

I decided to use the public transport as much as possible today, and it turned out to be a wise choice: I kept coughing much less. Yesterday, walking along the large streets, the car exhaust fumes really felt bad in my lungs, throat and nose. The air must have been a bit cleaner today, as well, because it rained yesterday and during the night. Quite a different weather today: +24 C in the shade and sunny. It really felt like being in the Mediterranean, especially when I was walking around the Acropolis and its lower hillsides with their greenery, cyprus and olive trees and palms.

The public transport system of Athens is really excellent too, and cheap - a weekly ticket for all forms of transport is only 10 euros. They also play music at least in the central metro stations. This morning at the Syntagma (parliament square) station the music had a distinctly Arabic flavour. Perhaps someone in charge had fancied the CD, or perhaps it's a reflection of the fact that Greek music - like a lot in Greek culture - is heavily Turkish-influenced (although apparently this is something that many Greeks don't like to admit).

I must say that I really enjoy the fact that I know (and remember) the city well enough to not need a map usually (would of course be different if I decided to head out to the suburbs; and I will be needing a map if I go to Pireus - and I will, as I want to catch the sea). Of course I don't know all the streets and alleyways, far from it. But I do know the basic plan and the location of the major streets, so I always know which way I should be going. Not needing a map gives you a feeling of freedom, and it also has the advantage that you won't be automatically thought of as a tourist.

I was out and about in the city early today so got to the new Acropolis museum before the huge queues. A brilliant building that uses lots of glass to best effect. Also the exhibitions are fantastically arranged, though most of the stuff - or similar stuff - I have already seen in other museums. The walkway to the museum entrance has glass-covered sections which reveal the archaeological remains beneath, and also there's a larger, fenced-off open space where you can see the things beneath better. The archaeological remains look like the bases and lower walls of private houses, with a couple of wells. It really shows the situation with all building projects in Athens, particularly in central Athens: you just can't go ahead and build, because there are likely to be important archaeological remains beneath which have to be investigated and excavated and catalogued.

From the museum I walked around the Acropolis and to the Agora. I did not walk around it because I've seen it so many times already, but the Acropolis entrance ticket I bought yesterday gave free access to the Agora so I could go through the gates and over to Plaka. Yesterday I said to myself that I need to go back to the National Gardens when the weather is better, so today I did. What a wonderful respite from the din of the city! The greenery, the warmth, the scents, the singing of birds... I really hope I won't feel too depressed getting back to the cold and dark of Finland at the end of this month! Then again I'm sure it will be getting cooler in Greece too by that time, so it should ease the transition.

By the time I got out of the park I was a bit tired so I decided to head back to the hostel. I had in mind to rest a bit and then walk around in the neighbourhood, but in the end did not have the energy for that. Instead, I did the laundry and then just have been editing some photographs. Tomorrow I'm getting to work. In the morning, I need to go to the Finnish institute to pick up the introduction letter which will give me access to the library of the American School of Classical Studies. At 2.30 pm I will be at the library; the precise time is because they give out new entrance cards in the morning of each monday, and between 2.30 and 3.30 pm on mondays and thursdays. I will mostly be working at this library, though might possibly need something at the libraries of the French and German institutes as well. I'll be trying to work studiously from the morning to closing time (8 pm). Who knows, maybe I'll be able to do the things I need to do well ahead of schedule so will have some extra free days before I'll leave Athens.

Parthenon, etc.

2009-10-17T20:16:00.004+03:00

This is a view on "my" street, i.e. the street where the hostel of the Finnish institute is located. I snapped it from my balcony. I think there's something adorable about the name of this cafe and also about the garishness of the neon sign. I haven't checked in to see what kind of a place it is. Might be mostly frequented by the men of the neighbourhood, who knows: these traditional Turkish type "social clubs" of men still exist in Greece though have been getting rarer in the recent decades. The hostel feels very familiar to me, as nothing much seems to have changed in the last six years: the apartment looks the same; the hand-drawn map on the notice board of the room is the same; so is the grocery store across the (narrow) street opposite the door of the hostel.

I got a good 9 hours of sleep, despite my reservations: I couldn't get the AC working so I had to keep the balcony door open a bit, which let in noise from the street. All the same I fell asleep fairly quickly, so I must have been tired. I headed out about 10 am, first walking around for a while, then heading out to the Omonia square metro station where I bought a weekly ticket that covers all forms of public transport (only 10 euros). Then I went to the Acropolis to see the Parthenon. I have seen it about 10 times already, but how could you not go see the Parthenon when in Athens? Beforehand, I was not going to go to any of the tourist places, but you just have to go to the Acropolis. All the same, I felt the familiar annoyance about tourists, because their behaviour is so, well, touristy. The entrance to the Acropolis through the Propylaea, right? It's a place where about a thousand (or whatever) people pass each hour. It's also a fairly narrow passage. Even so, some tourists don't think nothing of stopping right in the middle of the passage and blocking the way from lots of other people, because they just have to snap that picture just there with their little pocket cameras. Rant over.

In contrast, I did NOT go to the new Acropolis museum, because it had huge queues and I was hungry so I didn't feel like waiting in the rain. Instead, I walked back towards the city centre through Plaka where to my delight I found that the trad. pita grill that had been there six years ago was still there. The giro pita I had was so delicious. From Syntagma square I continued to the nearby National Gardens. A delightful place, offering some peace in the noise of the city. Definitely a place I need to go back to when it's not raining - especially as my visit now was cut short due to the fact that nature called and the park toilets were really not a place you'd want to do your business in. Some more walking afterwards, but it was still raining and I was getting tired, so I thought it best to head back towards the hostel.

In Athens

2009-10-16T22:39:00.003+03:00

A couple of things at the National Museum which I went to as I happened to walk by it.

This 5th century dedicatory stele depicts a scene from the myths related to the Mysteries of Eleusis: on the left, the goddess Demeter gives an ear of corn to Triptolemos, so that he may give it to the humankind and thus teach it agriculture. On the right, Persephone, daughter of Demeter, watches.

An early 5th century bronze, variously identified as either Zeus or Poseidon. This is an example of the so called Severe Classical style, for which anatomical precision was typical.

My plane was at the Athens airport shortly before 2 pm. To my joy, I found that they have in the last six years built a metro line that takes you straight to the city. It's super modern and has air conditioning. In central Athens, I had to change line a couple of times, and by that time it was already rush hour so the metro was like a can of sardines. A very warm - several degrees above 20 C - and humid weather, so by the time I got to the hostel of the Finnish Institute I was soaked. A quick shower, and off I went to walk around a bit. On first glance, it doesn't seem like Athens has changed much in the last six years, apart from there being some new stores and cafes and such and some places that used to be there having gone out of business (particularly I was disappointed to find that a Greek fast food place not too far from the hostel where you could get great pork pitas has now been replaced by a Pizza Hut). Athens is still very very noisy and everybody drives a car everywhere. I don't think I've seen as many cars anywhere else. I'd better not walk along the major streets too much, otherwise I'm liable to get a lung disease from the exhaust fumes of the car.

Some more experimentation

2009-10-11T01:08:00.005+03:00

The theme here is urban anonymity. Just experimenting and having fun doing so.

By the way, my referring to urban anonymity might make it sound like I found the urban existence a negative experience. Not so. I do not feel anonymous in the city and the city is where I want to be. But I do know there are many lonely people in the large cities of the world, people who do feel anonymous, detached; and I sympathize with them.

Actually, I should say the theme is anonymity in general, however one defines it or whatever kind one feels or is familiar with.

A bit of fun...

2009-10-09T22:43:00.003+03:00

Enjoying fiddling with some new pictures. I had such a joyous photography session in "my" park nearby earlier this evening. I think I've mentioned it before but the lights in the park aren't of the cold, glaring kind but rather give a soft glow. That's why I love the park when the dark starts to fall. To stand in the softly embracing, falling darkness, to listen to the silence while waiting for the camera trigger to go off; that's meditation. I've had a cold in the last few days, so it probably wasn't so good for my cough. But it certainly was very good for the spirit!

Publicly I don't take pictures of sunsets ;-)

2009-10-06T00:33:00.001+03:00

Red

2009-10-01T02:50:00.001+03:00

The Road

2009-09-22T23:13:00.003+03:00

No, I have not been reading Jack Kerouac lately. Just felt like posting this one.

Autumn

2009-09-18T00:55:00.001+03:00