The past week there was one day when the sky was completely clear and everyone marveled at the phenomenal in the sky, also called the sun. Days like these underline what we mean by long, dark winters. Anyway, let me recap what else has been going on.
White noise sound artist Ryoji Ikeda’s latest
The past week I’ve been playing Ryoji Ikeda‘s latest album ultratronics, which is perhaps his most accessible by his standards. Yes, the strictly sharp and precise electronic blips of noise are still ever present, but there are also spoken words heard (although computer generated) and the tracks are surprisingly varied too.
Looking up what he has been up to lately, I was pleasantly surprised that there will be a solo exhibition right here in Helsinki’s Amos Rex later this year, as he is also known as a visual artist. I’m looking forward to seeing it, probably book a ticket in advance as the waiting lines to Amos Rex are famously long if an ongoing exhibition is popular.
The End of Summer
I watched the fourth movie by Yasujiro Ozu in a space of a few weeks, The End of Summer (1961). I’m getting a better understanding how Ozu really sticks to his own style even when it comes repetitive. Yet again, the story was about pressure of getting married by others, old traditions being replaced by new trends and that one possible illegimate child. There was however one new theme and that was death in the family, the one thing no one can avoid in the end.
Original Finnish movie poster for The End of Summer.
While this was another great movie, I have to say that Ozu’s staple actress Setsuko Hara‘s everlasting smile in almost every scene is getting a bit annoying. I can get it that she is considered one of the greatest Japanese actresses and her charisma probably meant a lot to moviegoers back then, but for me in this movie it felt unnatural especially during scenes when she was talking with her little sister of rather personal things.
Finnish Film Golden Oldies
In addition of buying a ticket to Ozu’s screening, I also bought National Audiovisual Institute’s (KAVI) wall calendar. The calendar shares the same theme of an ongoing exhibition of films and tv-series that were filmed north of the Pitkäsilta Bridge in Helsinki, which back in the day was considered a rough working class district.
The calendar has QR-codes to films related to the theme that are free to watch online. So I decided to watch Onni Pyörii (1942) with low expectations, but it turned out to be an entertaining story about a young man of pure heart being easy prey for men and women of all social classes (played by Finnish singer and actor Tauno Palo, a superstar of the Golden age of Finnish Cinema).
The film had interesting shots of the streets of Helsinki in the 1940’s, carefree women (oh, the decadence of the city) and the danger of getting into a fist fight fairly easily with the wrong people.
It also contained a line that stuck with me, when an old tramp comforted the protagonist while locked up in a police station: “Don’t worry, everything will get sorted out. If not well, then badly. But gets sorted out nonetheless!” I found it funny at it first, but later realized it is actually a useful way of seeing things under times of stress at work for instance.
The screenwriter of this film is by the famous Finnish writer Mika Waltari, who is best known for his bestseller The Egyptian (1954) and the only Finnish novel to to be adapted into a Hollywood film. I could go futher down the rabbit hole of trivia, but I think this will do for now. Wall calendars can be dangerous time sinks too, apparently.
Helsinki Vice. Kauko in “Onni pyörii” experiences how hard it is to be a saint in the city. Photo: Suomen Filmiteollisuus SF Oy
Greek mythology art
This week I took a closer look at a bronze statue by Walter Runeberg (1838-1920), the son of the Finnish national poet J.L. Runeberg (I’m name-dropping a lot of famous Finnish people in this post!). This statue was finished in 1893 and originally located at a private women’s hospital and later moved outside the Children’s Clinic in 1950.
The location is odd considering the subject of the statue, which depicts two of the fifty sisters of Danaus from Greek mythology. According to legend, these women were pressured to marry their father’s brother’s fifty sons. They eventually did so, but only to kill them on their wedding night as ordered by their father (well, apart from one). The sisters were condemned to spend eternity carrying water into a leaky tub (apart from that one who didn’t follow orders).
Walter Runeberg, “The Danaides” 1893. I wonder what people think of it when going past it to the Children’s Clinic.
The statue is a peculiar mix of regret, exhaustion and a hint of eroticism. Reading articles about Walter and this statue, the style seems to be at crossroads between Art Nouveau and neoclassicism or realism. Maybe so, can’t say for sure myself.
Considering this work is from the same guy who made the statue of Alexander II at Helsinki’s Senate Square (not to mention his father’s statue at Esplanadi Park), the somewhat strange location of this baffles me and seems to be just put in between two road paths by an ignorant janitor who wanted to free storage space somewhere.
But at least it is on public display and again I learned various new things.
Looks like I’ve found some basic topics in my recent posts: movies, music and public art. I’m sure I’ll eventually come up with other stuff too.