I forgot to mention that on Friday I attended the final two lectures in the "Wood Works" series. The first was by Pekka Helin and the second by Matti Sanaksenaho. Helin feels strongly about the role of craftsmanship in architecture - although as Philip observed, his work doesn't always uphold his rhetoric. Helin noted that while steel and glass elements are almost always prefabricated, wood (and concrete, which he didn't mention) ones need not be. He also mentioned briefly a "soap treatment" for interior wood surfaces - over time the wood becomes softer and softer underfoot. I need to research this!
Sanaksenaho's work was more interesting, largely because his projects have stronger conceptual underpinnings. In addition, his presentation drawings are very attractive; his renderings include digital mixed media and watercolor over pencil. Sanaksenaho was the architect for St Henry's church in Turku. Shaped and built like an upside-down boat, this building was featured last year in the Nordic Heritage Museum's exhibit of Finnish churches. He remarked that the interior pine surfaces are unfinished and that the light coming into the space will, over time, permanently register on the wood - an architectural "goût de lumière." It is easy to make a building handsome when it is new, and old buildings are attractive simply because of their "age-value" (Alois Riegl's term), but it requires sensitivity and foresight to design a building that will weather gracefully from the former state to the latter.
30 April 2007
29 April 2007
Kiasma
One of the advantages of being a student here is greatly reduced museum admissions. For just 10 €, I joined the Finnish National Gallery; now I can stop in Kiasma or the Ateneum any time I like.
Does Kiasma have a significant site relationship? Not really. The geometry of the plan is based on the intersection of Mannerheimintie with the downtown street grid, and the building's curve is informed by sun angles, but these are mechanistic responses. They don't give the user of the building an experiential understanding of the site. The supposed vectors of "culture" and "nature" aren't evident. Besides, it is difficult to consider Töölönlahti "natural" as it is entirely surrounded by the city.
Additionally, from the exterior Kiasma has a disconcerting lack of scale. Although it is not an immense building, its monolithic massing, smooth surfaces, and lack of ornament make it oppressive. The architect, Steven Holl, deliberately strove for a " 'silence' created by eliminating the intermediate scale." (Kiasma: Museum of Contemporary Art. Helsinki: Rakennustieto Oy, 1998.) In fact, the fine scale of detail is absent as well, and the building is difficult to comprehend from the exterior. It seems overwhelming, even given its location near the (much larger) railway station and Finlandia Hall.
The interior of the building is quite successful, however. Here the absence of intermediate scale in the building is not missed, because the art itself fulfills that role. Indeed, at this level it is appropriate that the building recede so that the art is foregrounded. Considered details provide a texture that, in concert with the overall massing, brackets the intermediate scale of the art. Many details, including lighting fixtures and and door handles, are derived from the building's sectional and plan characteristics - which are themselves closely related. This fractal strategy results in a satisfying, organically unified interior.
Does Kiasma have a significant site relationship? Not really. The geometry of the plan is based on the intersection of Mannerheimintie with the downtown street grid, and the building's curve is informed by sun angles, but these are mechanistic responses. They don't give the user of the building an experiential understanding of the site. The supposed vectors of "culture" and "nature" aren't evident. Besides, it is difficult to consider Töölönlahti "natural" as it is entirely surrounded by the city.
Additionally, from the exterior Kiasma has a disconcerting lack of scale. Although it is not an immense building, its monolithic massing, smooth surfaces, and lack of ornament make it oppressive. The architect, Steven Holl, deliberately strove for a " 'silence' created by eliminating the intermediate scale." (Kiasma: Museum of Contemporary Art. Helsinki: Rakennustieto Oy, 1998.) In fact, the fine scale of detail is absent as well, and the building is difficult to comprehend from the exterior. It seems overwhelming, even given its location near the (much larger) railway station and Finlandia Hall.
The interior of the building is quite successful, however. Here the absence of intermediate scale in the building is not missed, because the art itself fulfills that role. Indeed, at this level it is appropriate that the building recede so that the art is foregrounded. Considered details provide a texture that, in concert with the overall massing, brackets the intermediate scale of the art. Many details, including lighting fixtures and and door handles, are derived from the building's sectional and plan characteristics - which are themselves closely related. This fractal strategy results in a satisfying, organically unified interior.
kuusi ravintolaa
Six Helsinki restaurants that I particularly want to try:
Nokka is on Katajanokka just under the cathedral. As much as possible the ingredients are carefully selected from Finnish producers.
Ilmatar is in the Kamp hotel on Bulevardi. It too emphasizes ingredients from small-scale Finnish producers. I remember reading that the restaurant is decorated in a Kalevala theme (Ilmatar is the goddess of wind).
Sundmans Krog. "Krog" is Swedish for bistro. This is underneath the Sundmans restaurant itself (which has a Michelin star), on Eleläranta just south of Katajanokka.
Safka, just around the corner from me in Kruununhaka. The emphasis is definitely on the food rather than the décor! It looks serious but not pretentious. My friend Katherine told me that she has eaten here twice and enjoyed it very much.
Chez Dominique doesn't seem particularly Finnish but it is universally regarded as Finland's best restaurant. It is one of only three restaurants in Scandinavia to have two Michelin stars. A la carte it looks quite expensive. However, there is an affordable lunch menu which includes sweetbreads (a favorite of mine).
Sea Horse is south of downtown, on Kapteeninkatu.
Nokka is on Katajanokka just under the cathedral. As much as possible the ingredients are carefully selected from Finnish producers.
Ilmatar is in the Kamp hotel on Bulevardi. It too emphasizes ingredients from small-scale Finnish producers. I remember reading that the restaurant is decorated in a Kalevala theme (Ilmatar is the goddess of wind).
Sundmans Krog. "Krog" is Swedish for bistro. This is underneath the Sundmans restaurant itself (which has a Michelin star), on Eleläranta just south of Katajanokka.
Safka, just around the corner from me in Kruununhaka. The emphasis is definitely on the food rather than the décor! It looks serious but not pretentious. My friend Katherine told me that she has eaten here twice and enjoyed it very much.
Chez Dominique doesn't seem particularly Finnish but it is universally regarded as Finland's best restaurant. It is one of only three restaurants in Scandinavia to have two Michelin stars. A la carte it looks quite expensive. However, there is an affordable lunch menu which includes sweetbreads (a favorite of mine).
Sea Horse is south of downtown, on Kapteeninkatu.
limppua
Finland has some very good breads - maybe too many, as the bread you like today might not be available tomorrow. Case in point: limppu from the Maalahden Limppu company. I bought a loaf of this wonderful rye bread a few days ago but can't find it again. I did try another brand of limppu, but that one contains oil and sunflower seeds and tastes horrible.
The Maalahden version is a dark, moist, flavorful loaf about 5 x 5 x 20 cm. It's like gingerbread in texture, but not taste; it's not spicy nor particularly sweet. According to the woman handing out samples, it was made originally for sailors (Maalahti is on the west coast, just south of Vaasa).
The Maalahden version is a dark, moist, flavorful loaf about 5 x 5 x 20 cm. It's like gingerbread in texture, but not taste; it's not spicy nor particularly sweet. According to the woman handing out samples, it was made originally for sailors (Maalahti is on the west coast, just south of Vaasa).
26 April 2007
25 April 2007
Suomenlinna
Suomenlinna ("castle of Finland") is a fortress complex located on an archipelago just south of Helsinki. Built in the 18th century, it is now a UNESCO World Heritage site. Click on the pictures to enlarge them.
Flowers on Iso Mustasaari, the largest of the five islands.
Door to one of the fortifications. No doubt Hardwick's stocks this hardware...
From inside one of the fortifications.
Wooden boats being repaired in the dockyard.
An unusual building on Iso Mustasaari, seen from Pikku Mustasaari.
Part of Suomenlinna is off-limits as it is still used by the military (it is the site of the Finnish naval academy). Rebecca considers what "pain of punishment" might entail, exactly.
What's so exciting about this building? Speculation is welcome...the answer in my next post!
It's still early in the year, so most of the restaurants in Suomenlinna are closed. However, the brewery was open and was not bad. I had pan-fried Baltic herring (fine) with wild mushrooms in cream (good), a berry/onion relish (very good), and mashed potatoes (excellent). The brewery's hoppy pilsener was more interesting than the ordinary Finnish beers generally available.
Flowers on Iso Mustasaari, the largest of the five islands.
Door to one of the fortifications. No doubt Hardwick's stocks this hardware...
From inside one of the fortifications.
Wooden boats being repaired in the dockyard.
An unusual building on Iso Mustasaari, seen from Pikku Mustasaari.
Part of Suomenlinna is off-limits as it is still used by the military (it is the site of the Finnish naval academy). Rebecca considers what "pain of punishment" might entail, exactly.
What's so exciting about this building? Speculation is welcome...the answer in my next post!
It's still early in the year, so most of the restaurants in Suomenlinna are closed. However, the brewery was open and was not bad. I had pan-fried Baltic herring (fine) with wild mushrooms in cream (good), a berry/onion relish (very good), and mashed potatoes (excellent). The brewery's hoppy pilsener was more interesting than the ordinary Finnish beers generally available.
21 April 2007
kolme suomalaista arkkitehtia
Yesterday, at Auli Puhakka's invitation, I visited Evata, the largest architectural firm in Finland (100 people, including 60 architects). Several international students, Rebecca, and I got a brief tour of the office and then a PowerPoint presentation from one of the principals. Rebecca said, "this feels like being back in Bruce Donnally's professional practice class," and indeed it did. (Were we supposed to write essays after the visit?) Specifically, it felt like being at Callison. We didn't hear much about building design, but we saw a lot of org charts and presentation graphics. I suppose somebody needs to design sports arenas, shopping malls, and speculative office complexes, but this type of work is not personally interesting. For me, architecture must be place-specific to be significant, and it must be derived from human needs rather than the dictates of corporate capitalism.
Earlier in the day we went to two lectures at TKK, the first by Mikko Kaira and the second by Anders Adlercreutz. These lectures were part of the "Wood Works" series that my friend Philip told me about and that complements TKK's famous wood architecture program. Mikko's lecture was fine, but Anders' was much more exciting. He showed us several interesting examples of his work, including his own greenhouse, a house for a conductor, and a day care center. While his designs are formally modern, he has a material sensibility that is informed by tradition. The conductor's house, for example, consists of two volumes, one of which is constructed of stacked logs. The surfaces used in the day care center were selected for their textural properties (smooth if they will be touched or leaned against vs. rough if they are not intended to be touched) and given associative finishes such as traditional red paint or aromatic tar.
Earlier in the day we went to two lectures at TKK, the first by Mikko Kaira and the second by Anders Adlercreutz. These lectures were part of the "Wood Works" series that my friend Philip told me about and that complements TKK's famous wood architecture program. Mikko's lecture was fine, but Anders' was much more exciting. He showed us several interesting examples of his work, including his own greenhouse, a house for a conductor, and a day care center. While his designs are formally modern, he has a material sensibility that is informed by tradition. The conductor's house, for example, consists of two volumes, one of which is constructed of stacked logs. The surfaces used in the day care center were selected for their textural properties (smooth if they will be touched or leaned against vs. rough if they are not intended to be touched) and given associative finishes such as traditional red paint or aromatic tar.
19 April 2007
Otaniemen kappeli
The chapel at TKK was designed by Heikki and Kaija Siren in 1952-53. Completed in 1956, it was destroyed by arson twenty years later but was rebuilt according to the original design. Tadao Ando visited this church before he designed the Church on the Water. Click on any of the images below for a larger version.
The chapel is on a low wooded hill at the east side of the campus. Rebecca's dorm is immediately behind me to the left.
The courtyard of the chapel. To the left is a screen of branches laid horizontally between steel uprights. In the center of the courtyard, paved with cobbles, are several conifer trees and the bell tower. The perimeter of the courtyard is paved in brick. Behind the bell tower's cross are tall west-facing clerestory windows. While the bricks and mortar are still unweathered, there is considerable efflorescence. The chapel will be closed for restoration from May through December.
The entire east wall of the chapel is glazed. In this interior elevation the cross is centered beyond between two columns; however, from most seats the view is unframed and thus open to individual interpretation. Window mullions are hidden behind the timber columns that support the roof trusses. Beyond the white steel cross the hill descends toward the Laajalahti bay; a fence, invisible from the chapel, prevents people from walking through the view. The building is five structural bays wide. The four northern bays form the worship space, while the fifth includes the entrance, circulation space, the organ, and the chaplain's room (the roof of which is just visible to the right). The chaplain's room was not part of the original design; it was added when the building was reconstructed.
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Although not "architecturally correct," this photo does show how small the room is, front to back, and how trusses (timber with steel tension rods) support a steeply-sloped roof. The slope not only provides for the clerestory at the left, but also generates a forced perspective that makes the space seem deeper than it actually is. Without this effect, it might seem too shallow given its width. The room is actually wider than it is deep.
This photo was taken from the organist's point of view. The first time I was in this building, a student was playing Rachmaninov on a piano; the second time, the organist was practicing. The music seems to fill a much larger space than is actually present, probably as a result of the ceiling angle. The extensive view, the forced perspective of the ceiling, and the acoustical properties of the room reinforce each other in enlarging the space.
My 2 € lunch at Dipoli (the student center at TKK)
On Wednesday, I went to a lecture (in English, at the Helsinki Ateneum) on Erik Gunnar Asplund. Eva Eriksson discussed recurring elements in Asplund's buildings: apparently symmetric facades that that, upon close inspection, turn out to be asymmetric; cylindrical "served" spaces set within generally rectangular "servant" masses (to appropriate Louis Kahn's terminology), with stairs often wrapping the former; special attention given to stairs, including skylighting; central volumes that, while entirely enclosed, are treated as if they were outdoors; and a rather postmodern use of ironic humor.
The chapel is on a low wooded hill at the east side of the campus. Rebecca's dorm is immediately behind me to the left.
The courtyard of the chapel. To the left is a screen of branches laid horizontally between steel uprights. In the center of the courtyard, paved with cobbles, are several conifer trees and the bell tower. The perimeter of the courtyard is paved in brick. Behind the bell tower's cross are tall west-facing clerestory windows. While the bricks and mortar are still unweathered, there is considerable efflorescence. The chapel will be closed for restoration from May through December.
The entire east wall of the chapel is glazed. In this interior elevation the cross is centered beyond between two columns; however, from most seats the view is unframed and thus open to individual interpretation. Window mullions are hidden behind the timber columns that support the roof trusses. Beyond the white steel cross the hill descends toward the Laajalahti bay; a fence, invisible from the chapel, prevents people from walking through the view. The building is five structural bays wide. The four northern bays form the worship space, while the fifth includes the entrance, circulation space, the organ, and the chaplain's room (the roof of which is just visible to the right). The chaplain's room was not part of the original design; it was added when the building was reconstructed.
.jpg)
Although not "architecturally correct," this photo does show how small the room is, front to back, and how trusses (timber with steel tension rods) support a steeply-sloped roof. The slope not only provides for the clerestory at the left, but also generates a forced perspective that makes the space seem deeper than it actually is. Without this effect, it might seem too shallow given its width. The room is actually wider than it is deep.
This photo was taken from the organist's point of view. The first time I was in this building, a student was playing Rachmaninov on a piano; the second time, the organist was practicing. The music seems to fill a much larger space than is actually present, probably as a result of the ceiling angle. The extensive view, the forced perspective of the ceiling, and the acoustical properties of the room reinforce each other in enlarging the space.
My 2 € lunch at Dipoli (the student center at TKK)
On Wednesday, I went to a lecture (in English, at the Helsinki Ateneum) on Erik Gunnar Asplund. Eva Eriksson discussed recurring elements in Asplund's buildings: apparently symmetric facades that that, upon close inspection, turn out to be asymmetric; cylindrical "served" spaces set within generally rectangular "servant" masses (to appropriate Louis Kahn's terminology), with stairs often wrapping the former; special attention given to stairs, including skylighting; central volumes that, while entirely enclosed, are treated as if they were outdoors; and a rather postmodern use of ironic humor.
18 April 2007
minä pidän Stockmannista
It may not have the lowest prices on anything, but it is true that Stockmann does have just about everything, and whatever you buy there will be of good quality. In the last few days I've picked up the correct power cord for my camera battery charger (much cheaper than buying an adapter), a Finnish grammar book (in English), a 23cm drop-forged full-tang high-carbon knife (I'd forgotten how frustrating it is to cook with bad cutlery), a sketchbook, chestnut purée, several types of bread, a couple of karjalanpiirakkaa (far better than the frozen ones from S-Market)...and, most importantly, a Stockmann kanta-asiakas (loyal customer) card!
suomalaista juomaa
I've already mentioned sahti and piimä, my two favorite Finnish drinks. Here are some others that I've tried:
Kotisima is a partially fermented drink that tastes like fermenting cider or grape must. "Koti" means home and "sima" is mead, but it's actually made from water, sugar, brown sugar, and yeast, not honey. It's lightly flavored with lemon and raisins.
Koskenkorva is a sort of vodka made by the same company that produces Finlandia. It's less expensive than Finlandia and contains a small amount of sugar. It tastes more or less like cheap vodka but dissolve some salmiakki candy in it and you get salmiakki kossu, a much more interesting drink. The latter concotion is greenish black, sweet, salty, and tastes like licorish - imagine Pernod or ouzo with some salt in it. You can buy it premixed or make your own; the latter allows you to use the iconic Koskenkorva bottle with the grainfield logo. Believing in traditional recipes, I used orthodox Fazer brand "Tyrkisk Peber" salmiakki; the result is a little saltier and a little less sweet than the premixed stuff, and it has an interesting spiciness as well.
Lapponia makes various berry liqueurs. I bought the buckthorn one (by accident) and the cloudberry one (which is what I was looking for). Both berries are orange; buckthorn tastes a bit like a mirabelle plum while cloudberry has a unique, rather exotic, flavor. Both liqueurs are a bit too sweet for my taste, but then I don't really like liqueur other than Chartreuse (and crème de cassis, but that only for kirs). I'd be interested to try eaux-de-vie made from these fruits, however.
The water here is quite good, also!
Kotisima is a partially fermented drink that tastes like fermenting cider or grape must. "Koti" means home and "sima" is mead, but it's actually made from water, sugar, brown sugar, and yeast, not honey. It's lightly flavored with lemon and raisins.
Koskenkorva is a sort of vodka made by the same company that produces Finlandia. It's less expensive than Finlandia and contains a small amount of sugar. It tastes more or less like cheap vodka but dissolve some salmiakki candy in it and you get salmiakki kossu, a much more interesting drink. The latter concotion is greenish black, sweet, salty, and tastes like licorish - imagine Pernod or ouzo with some salt in it. You can buy it premixed or make your own; the latter allows you to use the iconic Koskenkorva bottle with the grainfield logo. Believing in traditional recipes, I used orthodox Fazer brand "Tyrkisk Peber" salmiakki; the result is a little saltier and a little less sweet than the premixed stuff, and it has an interesting spiciness as well.
Lapponia makes various berry liqueurs. I bought the buckthorn one (by accident) and the cloudberry one (which is what I was looking for). Both berries are orange; buckthorn tastes a bit like a mirabelle plum while cloudberry has a unique, rather exotic, flavor. Both liqueurs are a bit too sweet for my taste, but then I don't really like liqueur other than Chartreuse (and crème de cassis, but that only for kirs). I'd be interested to try eaux-de-vie made from these fruits, however.
The water here is quite good, also!
14 April 2007
tänään on kuuma, siksi haluan olutta
Well, OK, it's not actually hot, but it's pretty warm for this time of year: 16˚ C (that's about 62˚ F according to my own double-it-and-add-30 conversion method). Some people took advantage of the weather to sit on the steep south-facing steps of the Tuomiokirkko or lounge around on the Esplanadi, but instead I met my friend Rebecca at the old Cable Factory, where the 10th annual Helsinki beer festival was being held.
The cable factory is a brick U-shaped building in the industrial southwest corner of Helsinki. No longer used for manufacturing, it has been converted into artists' studios and exhibition spaces. The beer festival was in the concrete-framed main hall of one wing of the building; the other held a tattoo convention that we were unwilling to pay 18 € to see. Upstairs were two food stands, including one where we got a delicious lunch of moose stew, mashed potatoes, and lingonberry preserves. Michael Jackson was also upstairs, where he attracted a small crowd. Looking rather the worse for wear, he swayed incessantly back and forth. Evidently professional beer tasters, unlike professional wine tasters, don't spit.
After buying glasses we picked up some informational literature from the hostesses (dressed as Clydesdales in fuzzy boots and G-strings) and started tasting. The best thing we tried was some clear juniper-flavored Häme moonshine, from an unlabeled bottle brought out from under the counter. This wasn't like gin - its flavor was cleaner and more subtle. I would have liked to buy some, but it wasn't for sale; its name in Finnish means something like "secret alcohol," because you have to "know somebody" in order to buy it. The guy who let us taste it said it was only available in three places in Finland. He also warned us about its aphrodisiac qualities, but evidently we were immune.
Among other beers and ciders, we tried two varieties of sahti, one from Savo and one from Häme. Sahti is a traditional Finnish ale made with baker's yeast; it is strong, sweet, rich and complex in flavor, and low in carbonation. I found it quite good and will certainly buy it if I find it for sale. Finnish beers available in grocery stores (Karhu III and Karjala III, for example) are nothing special; sahti is definitely something different.
The cable factory is a brick U-shaped building in the industrial southwest corner of Helsinki. No longer used for manufacturing, it has been converted into artists' studios and exhibition spaces. The beer festival was in the concrete-framed main hall of one wing of the building; the other held a tattoo convention that we were unwilling to pay 18 € to see. Upstairs were two food stands, including one where we got a delicious lunch of moose stew, mashed potatoes, and lingonberry preserves. Michael Jackson was also upstairs, where he attracted a small crowd. Looking rather the worse for wear, he swayed incessantly back and forth. Evidently professional beer tasters, unlike professional wine tasters, don't spit.
After buying glasses we picked up some informational literature from the hostesses (dressed as Clydesdales in fuzzy boots and G-strings) and started tasting. The best thing we tried was some clear juniper-flavored Häme moonshine, from an unlabeled bottle brought out from under the counter. This wasn't like gin - its flavor was cleaner and more subtle. I would have liked to buy some, but it wasn't for sale; its name in Finnish means something like "secret alcohol," because you have to "know somebody" in order to buy it. The guy who let us taste it said it was only available in three places in Finland. He also warned us about its aphrodisiac qualities, but evidently we were immune.
Among other beers and ciders, we tried two varieties of sahti, one from Savo and one from Häme. Sahti is a traditional Finnish ale made with baker's yeast; it is strong, sweet, rich and complex in flavor, and low in carbonation. I found it quite good and will certainly buy it if I find it for sale. Finnish beers available in grocery stores (Karhu III and Karjala III, for example) are nothing special; sahti is definitely something different.
13 April 2007
minä olen asunut jo yhden viikon Suomessa
I've been in Finland for a week now. The weather is already turning to spring - yesterday and today the temperature was above 10 degrees, and today wasn't even windy. Easter certainly came at an appropriate time this year.
I'm getting more comfortable speaking Finnish. Although far from fluent, I can have basic conversations with people without resorting to English - most Finns have a good to excellent command of English. I've found that starting conversations with "Minä puhun vähän suomea. Puhutko sinä englantia tai ranskaa?" (I speak a little Finnish. Do you speak English or French?) is the best way to indicate that I'm not fluent but that I'm trying to improve my Finnish. (So far, the only person to take me up on the French has been Dutch, not Finnish...)
A few days ago I finally made it to Stockmann; I've been back at least once a day since. This is a department store which sells, in addition to clothing and household goods, everything from automobiles to textbooks. ("If Stockmann doesn't have it, you don't need it," one saying goes...reminds me of Dan & Whit's, although Stockmann has considerably greater selection.) I go for the basement, which is where the grocery store and an Alko are. Stockmann's grocery department has the best selection in Helsinki: a fine cheese counter, an excellent selection of teas (three single estate Darjeelings, for example), herbs sold still growing in little pots (only 1,40 € for a whole tarragon plant!), all sorts of tasty breads, and so on. The only things I'm missing so far are baguettes: the "patonki" contain rye and oil.
I'm getting more comfortable speaking Finnish. Although far from fluent, I can have basic conversations with people without resorting to English - most Finns have a good to excellent command of English. I've found that starting conversations with "Minä puhun vähän suomea. Puhutko sinä englantia tai ranskaa?" (I speak a little Finnish. Do you speak English or French?) is the best way to indicate that I'm not fluent but that I'm trying to improve my Finnish. (So far, the only person to take me up on the French has been Dutch, not Finnish...)
A few days ago I finally made it to Stockmann; I've been back at least once a day since. This is a department store which sells, in addition to clothing and household goods, everything from automobiles to textbooks. ("If Stockmann doesn't have it, you don't need it," one saying goes...reminds me of Dan & Whit's, although Stockmann has considerably greater selection.) I go for the basement, which is where the grocery store and an Alko are. Stockmann's grocery department has the best selection in Helsinki: a fine cheese counter, an excellent selection of teas (three single estate Darjeelings, for example), herbs sold still growing in little pots (only 1,40 € for a whole tarragon plant!), all sorts of tasty breads, and so on. The only things I'm missing so far are baguettes: the "patonki" contain rye and oil.
12 April 2007
Uspenskin katedraali Katajanokalla
(consonant gradation occurs in the inessive case, right?)
Photos of and from the Russian church in Katajanokka.
spring flowers (Finland's colors are blue and white...)
Tuomiokirkko
Pohjoisranta (click here to enlarge)
Photos of and from the Russian church in Katajanokka.
spring flowers (Finland's colors are blue and white...)
Tuomiokirkko
Pohjoisranta (click here to enlarge)
09 April 2007
ruisleipä
There are various types of bread in the stores here, but the most interesting is a flat rye bread (not cracker) with a large hole in the middle. It's round, about 20-25 cm in diameter and 2-3 cm thick, and is sold sliced into two layers. Sometimes it's also scored into six wedges. Like baguettes in France, this bread is ubiquitous, inexpensive, and invariably good. My favorite so far is the one made by the Salonen bakery; it's a little plumper and softer than the others, and has a taste that is at once purer and more complex. It's made with rye flour, water, and salt, but nothing else; some brands use additional ingredients. I've been eating it for breakfast with butter and cloudberry jam: the cloudberries have a tropical fruit flavor that goes well with the rye.
08 April 2007
valokuvia
Photos rather than words for a change. So far all I have are exterior travelogue-style photos that I've taken while wandering around the city. It hasn't been sunny all the time - there were snow flurries a few days ago - but the (very) strong winds ensure that the clouds blow away quickly.
Tuomiokirkko, Senaatintori (C. L. Engels, 1830-1852)
From atop the steps the church dominates the Senate Square, a space that has been full of Good Friday and Easter events since I arrived. My apartment on Mariankatu is a two-minute walk northeast the square (to the right in this photo).
Unionin-katu, looking north
Unioninkatu becomes Siltasaa-renkatu north of Kruun-unhaka, where it crosses the Eläintarhanlahti waterway and enters the neighborhoods to the north. The street serves as the axis for the eastern part of the city. Its south end is marked by the Helsinki observatory, set on a low hill in a park, while its north end is terminated by the vigorous massing of Kallio church, also on a hill and visible in this photo. Note the white-on-yellow Neoclassical buildings that predominate in Kruununhaka.
Uspenskin-katedraali, Katajan-okka (1868)
Katajan-okka is a peninsula connected to the city only at its far western tip, where it meets Kruununhaka at the Kauppatori market square. This church, which served the peninsula's Russian population, is near the market. Its domes presumably are the inspiration for the Ravintola Sipuli (Onion Restaurant) at the west end of the building below. Both the church and the restaurant building are constructed of brick. This photo was taken at dusk, looking south with the Pohjoissatama (north harbor) at the left.
Rautatieasema (Eliel Saarinen, 1914)
The central railroad station, at the center of the busiest part of Helsinki.
tower of the Olympiastadion, Töölö (Lindegren & Jäntti, 1940)
Above, the 72m tower. Below, a view from atop the tower, looking southeast towards Kruununhaka. Note the uniform building heights, punctuated by church towers. The Töölönlahti bay is visible in the foreground. Out of the photo to the right (west) is Finlandia Hall. The wind, which has been strong the entire time I've been in Helsinki, is remarkably powerful at this elevation!
Tuomiokirkko, Senaatintori (C. L. Engels, 1830-1852)From atop the steps the church dominates the Senate Square, a space that has been full of Good Friday and Easter events since I arrived. My apartment on Mariankatu is a two-minute walk northeast the square (to the right in this photo).
Unionin-katu, looking northUnioninkatu becomes Siltasaa-renkatu north of Kruun-unhaka, where it crosses the Eläintarhanlahti waterway and enters the neighborhoods to the north. The street serves as the axis for the eastern part of the city. Its south end is marked by the Helsinki observatory, set on a low hill in a park, while its north end is terminated by the vigorous massing of Kallio church, also on a hill and visible in this photo. Note the white-on-yellow Neoclassical buildings that predominate in Kruununhaka.
Uspenskin-katedraali, Katajan-okka (1868)Katajan-okka is a peninsula connected to the city only at its far western tip, where it meets Kruununhaka at the Kauppatori market square. This church, which served the peninsula's Russian population, is near the market. Its domes presumably are the inspiration for the Ravintola Sipuli (Onion Restaurant) at the west end of the building below. Both the church and the restaurant building are constructed of brick. This photo was taken at dusk, looking south with the Pohjoissatama (north harbor) at the left.
Rautatieasema (Eliel Saarinen, 1914)The central railroad station, at the center of the busiest part of Helsinki.
tower of the Olympiastadion, Töölö (Lindegren & Jäntti, 1940)
Above, the 72m tower. Below, a view from atop the tower, looking southeast towards Kruununhaka. Note the uniform building heights, punctuated by church towers. The Töölönlahti bay is visible in the foreground. Out of the photo to the right (west) is Finlandia Hall. The wind, which has been strong the entire time I've been in Helsinki, is remarkably powerful at this elevation!
ruokaa
My first shopping trip, on the day I arrived, was disappointing. The only store I found was the S-Market in Siltasaari, where just about everything is prepackaged and of mediocre quality. Here's what I bought, clockwise from 12:00: rye bread, mixed berry jam, viili, blueberry juice drink, piimä, rye crackers, karjalanpiirakkaa, salmiakki, voi (butter), reindeer sausage, mämmi, kananmunia (chicken eggs, quite fresh), juustoleipä, Auran (not Turun!) mustard, and Karjala beer.Regarding the dairy products: viili is like yogurt, but with the stringy consistency of fondue, while piimä is like buttermilk but thicker and smoother, and surprisingly tasty. I'll be able to make my delicious-if-I-do-say-so-myself buttermilk pancakes, and maple syrup ("Maple Joe," from Canada, a little thin but unadulterated) is for some reason readily available here. Juustoleipä is a baked cheese; the one I got had the taste and consistency of paneer, and was fine, but perhaps there are better examples.
The karjalanpiirakkaa weren't good, but what can you expect from prepackaged ones? I had a delicious example of this Karelian pastry at the Nordic Heritage Museum in Seattle, so I know they can be great.
Salmiakki is a marvelous salty licorish candy, but my heart rate goes up 10 bpm when I eat it, so I'm not going to be indulging.
Mämmi is a traditional Easter rye pudding. Much as I love the regional and the authentic, I have to say that this is coarse, heavy, and the third-worst thing I can remember putting into my mouth. (Second was my misguided improvisation, red cabbage braised in Campari. Bitter x bitter = horrible. First was creamed cabbage.) I was pleased when my friend Rebecca sent me this apocryphal story, showing that many Finns agree with me.
Subsequent to this trip, another friend, Liesl, told me about some other stores to try. The Alepa, underground near the train station, was a bit better than S-Market. There I got some wonderful new potatoes from Lapland, decent pickled herring, a blackcurrant-flavored cider from Sweden, a dull Finnish cheese called Pohjanpoika ("northern boy"), vispipuuro (lingonberries whipped with farina), two crunchy fried donuts called tippaleipää ("drip bread" - presumably it's made like a funnel cake), and some Finnish cloudberry jam. There are some products that come in "pure Finnish" and "not pure Finnish" varieties; the former are marked with a blue swan logo, cost slightly more, and are presumably tastier. The vispipuuro was the big disappointment here; again, I'd had a great home-made example in Seattle, and this factory-produced version wasn't anywhere near as good.
Better still was the S-Market under the Sokos department store just southeast of the train station. This place has real cheese! I'd been good about eating Finnish foods, but I relapsed when I saw the Morbier and Appenzeller. I also found some beautiful Finnish-grown lettuce, Tibetan tea, which I've never had before, and this unusual candy, chocolate-covered licorish. Unfortunately neither the chocolate nor the licorish is very good. Valrhona-coated salmiakki might be worth a try...On a similarly ridiculous note, I listened for the first time to "Hard Rock Hallelujah." The Finnish band Lordi won the Eurovision music competition last year with this song, so they're the reason the contest will be held in Helsinki this May. (They're also playing two shows in Washington this July.)
tänään on pääsiäinen
Just about everything in Helsinki is closed for Easter, so it seems like a good time to make my first post.
I arrived in Helsinki three days ago, a little after midnight on the 5th. Everything went smoothly: my luggage arrived intact, I was able to withdraw Euros from the airport ATM, it was no problem to get a bus to the airport to the center of town, and the key to my apartment worked. As it was a clear night and I was tired of the hot stuffy air of British Airways and Heathrow airport, I decided to take the bus rather than a taxi, although this meant lugging my suitcases a kilometer from the train station to my apartment. (Incidentally, Heathrow has an impressive shopping mall. I was able to find Ribena, a beverage which is Britain's foremost culinary accomplishment; I didn't buy anything at the fountain pen kiosk, though, so I'll have to get by for the next five months with just two pens.)
The next morning I was able to take a look at my apartment. It's tiny, more or less a single U-shaped room wrapped around the bathroom. The building itself isn't remarkable, but it's located in Kruununhaka, the old part of town. I'm only a few blocks away from the cathedral, Senate Square, and the kauppatori market on the harbor. The cobbled streets, dense Neoclassical buildings of uniform height (typically about six stories), and light colors (here, yellow buildings with white trim) remind me of Paris, although this part of Helsinki is planned on a grid and is considerably quieter than Paris - the only sound at night is the ticking of my clock. The fixtures in my apartment continue the Kruununhaka color scheme: walls, cabinets, and tiles are white, while the furniture and tableware are yellow. It's amusing to eat on Arabia plates, drink out of Iittala glassware, and sit on Artek furniture, but I do wish the apartment had a better kitchen. There are just two stove burners and no oven, although there is a microwave/toaster contraption that I will need to figure out.
Between odd sleeping patterns caused by jet lag, time spent running errands, and short hours of operation - Good Friday and Easter are more important here than in the US - I haven't spent much time inside buildings other than my apartment. Still, it's been architecturally exciting from the night I landed, when the bus drove past Aalto's Finlandia Hall en route to Saarinen's railway station and when I pulled by luggage by Engel's cathedral. It's amazing how many remarkable buildings fill this small city - but I'll get to buildings in another post.
Hyvää pääsiäistä kaikille!
I arrived in Helsinki three days ago, a little after midnight on the 5th. Everything went smoothly: my luggage arrived intact, I was able to withdraw Euros from the airport ATM, it was no problem to get a bus to the airport to the center of town, and the key to my apartment worked. As it was a clear night and I was tired of the hot stuffy air of British Airways and Heathrow airport, I decided to take the bus rather than a taxi, although this meant lugging my suitcases a kilometer from the train station to my apartment. (Incidentally, Heathrow has an impressive shopping mall. I was able to find Ribena, a beverage which is Britain's foremost culinary accomplishment; I didn't buy anything at the fountain pen kiosk, though, so I'll have to get by for the next five months with just two pens.)
The next morning I was able to take a look at my apartment. It's tiny, more or less a single U-shaped room wrapped around the bathroom. The building itself isn't remarkable, but it's located in Kruununhaka, the old part of town. I'm only a few blocks away from the cathedral, Senate Square, and the kauppatori market on the harbor. The cobbled streets, dense Neoclassical buildings of uniform height (typically about six stories), and light colors (here, yellow buildings with white trim) remind me of Paris, although this part of Helsinki is planned on a grid and is considerably quieter than Paris - the only sound at night is the ticking of my clock. The fixtures in my apartment continue the Kruununhaka color scheme: walls, cabinets, and tiles are white, while the furniture and tableware are yellow. It's amusing to eat on Arabia plates, drink out of Iittala glassware, and sit on Artek furniture, but I do wish the apartment had a better kitchen. There are just two stove burners and no oven, although there is a microwave/toaster contraption that I will need to figure out.
Between odd sleeping patterns caused by jet lag, time spent running errands, and short hours of operation - Good Friday and Easter are more important here than in the US - I haven't spent much time inside buildings other than my apartment. Still, it's been architecturally exciting from the night I landed, when the bus drove past Aalto's Finlandia Hall en route to Saarinen's railway station and when I pulled by luggage by Engel's cathedral. It's amazing how many remarkable buildings fill this small city - but I'll get to buildings in another post.
Hyvää pääsiäistä kaikille!
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