Since the opening in 2018, Amos Rex has established itself as a well-known destination in Helsinki and near the top of the visitor numbers for all the museums in Finland. Director Kieran Long doesn’t stand still but emphasises that there is even bigger potential.
— The courtyard (open to all, Ed’s note) is an unbelievably heavily trafficked place, and we have the chance to make events, performances, and installations that many thousands of people will experience and see, he says. Anything you put there becomes instantly compelling because of the fantastic landscape of the domes and the courtyard’s very expressive architecture, so activating this as a public space is one next step.
— Another thing is to define art broadly; design and fashion have been treated in quite a traditional way by museums. We have the potential to show a different side of it: a place in Helsinki and in the Nordics that stands for the art of fashion, but the art of fashion as it is today, for a younger generation. They see fashion more as a culture, a culture of expression, and a way of expressing their identity.
Amos Rex hosted a spectacular show in the mentioned courtyard during Fashion In Helsinki, open to all right after work on Friday. Finnish creative mind Minttu Vesala was invited to curate more than 50 models wearing one look each from new, emerging, and more established Finnish designers.
— For me, it’s a really democratic, open, and, we hope, joyful expression of fashion culture, says Long. That culture of fashion, the music, the design, the choreography, the models, and other different modes of expression are all part of what fashion is, and I don’t think museums have really embraced that full breadth. I see a future where we continue to do great shows and continue to activate the museum during Fashion In Helsinki. It’s also a way for fashion to say we’re not just part of an industry; we’re an art form, we’re a mode of expression, we’re essential to culture.
Being a Brit in Finland, what’s your outside view on the local fashion scene and its future potential?
— I’m really excited by Helsinki, I must say. There’s a very committed fashion scene of people who take the work extremely seriously, and a couple of wonderful universities pumping out extraordinary talent; you just see that there’s talent coming and coming and coming.
— But I think the most interesting part about being in Finland right now is that I think the differences between Western countries are getting bigger culturally. We’re understanding ourselves not to be part of one blob of ’Western’ culture. It means something to be Finnish now as opposed to American, or British, or German. While there are negative sides in some of those countries in terms of censorship and limits on free speech and free expression, Helsinki doesn’t have those limits. We are still extraordinarily free, and we have to use that freedom. Fashion is using it, fine art and the discourse need to use it. I think we can make a unique setting for a uniquely free conversation here, and the world’s going to be interested in that.
When you look at this local scene, there’s no lack of creativity, but of funding, making it very relevant for the industry that players like you get involved.
— We need to create an ecosystem, and we’re definitely totally committed to being a part of that, where designers see the possibilities of us as an expressive potential. Also, the only thing that I think is often holding back Nordic design is the feeling that people don’t really want to go out there and tell their story loudly. Museums like ours can definitely help create the platforms where those stories are easier to tell.
Someone who’s experienced this appreciation for local culture first-hand is Finnish designer Jonathan Ingberg.
— During my studies, he explains, as soon as I started telling stories about my life in Finland and my perspective, my point of view, and cultural history, it was what resonated with people the most. It’s true, it’s something I’ve experienced that only I can tell. Staying true to my roots is really important and sincere.
After the years of studying abroad, the Central Saint Martins BA Menswear alumni Ingberg worked in Paris (Martine Rose, Aalto International, Balenciaga) and Stockholm (H&M, Tiger of Sweden) — ”to see all the different spectrums of the industry” — before moving back to Finland.
— My parents own a sheep farm in the Finnish archipelago, 150 kilometres from Helsinki, with Finnish sheep that we shear twice a year. My brand’s starting point was to try and utilise the wool and find a way to incorporate it into something more elevated.
The brand, By Hinders, presents unisex, seasonless collections once a year, inspired by Finnish cultural history, in different chapters forming a trilogy with a start, a middle part, and an end.
— My fourth collection is, therefore, starting a new chapter. In the first three, I was at the farm, and now, I’m back in Helsinki with a transitional collection moving into a more urban environment.
— We’re direct-to-consumer because, in order to do wholesale, you should probably do two collections a year at least. By Hinders is really a passion project in the sense that I’m designing for myself rather than being part of a bigger team. I’m now building the foundation for the brand in the form of a study on the multifunctional wardrobe that works in different arenas in life.
What do you believe is set to be the future of your brand?
— The financing is obviously tricky. In Finland, we don’t have that much private financing, but we do have cultural foundations which have supported my work. It’s an exciting time in Finland, and I think we’re in a pivot here, Ingberg shares. He continues:
— I’m now thinking about how to grow — this new collection is called Growing Pains. The price point is premium, and I’m now focusing on building that strong foundation and adding more commercial pieces that still have that artistic expression and support local artisans and craftpeople.
— Doing just one collection per year means that I need to find the right partnerships and crowd, and that’s gonna take time, rather than pushing something. The dusty old format is demanding.
The seasonal?
— Yes, and the old industry standards. Of course, I understand that you have to have some sort of rhythm and standard — and it’s a business as well — but being a small independent brand, I can’t keep up with that, so I’m just trying to carve my own path, he concludes.
The Nordic non-profit organisation ALPHA empowers fashion talent from Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Sweden, and Norway, currently running an ongoing exhibition collaboration with Nordic museums. Fashion In Helsinki saw the opening of the third instalment, named Social Fabric, at EMMA – Espoo Museum of Modern Art, highlighting the waste and throw-away culture associated with fashion, and exploring the cultural fabric and the rituals of it.
— We show emerging and established fashion designers and artists, including emerging talents like Lauri Greis from Finland and Swedish designer Abbas Mandegar, and names that people will recognise on a wider international scale, such as Duran Lantink and Sinéad O’Dwyer, says Ane Lynge-Jorlén, director, ALPHA.
— The work of Danish artist and fashion designer Sophie Winter, which speaks to mass consumption but in a meaningful artistic way, is really worth mentioning. She works both with art and fashion, similar to a lot of designers and artists today, who work in an interdisciplinary way.
What are the differences between fashion in the different countries?
— It’s really telling how this cultural awareness and cultural status of fashion in the specific countries are so linked to, firstly, the educational institutions: how long has fashion been something that has been taught in the said country? But also, how does the media report on fashion? I think that the whole institutional system also affects the fashion that is created and the possibilities that are given to the emerging talents in the specific countries. We do have countries that are further ahead in their journey towards embracing the cultural value of fashion and also giving opportunities to fashion talents, and other countries that aren’t so developed because it’s a younger field there.
Aalto University fashion student Krista Virtanen’s MA thesis collection, Grey Market, takes a stand as a critical statement against fast fashion.
— The Grey Market is a growing market in fast fashion; older people want to be more updated and more trendy, and getting faster clothing all the time, she explains. Since it’s growing, fast fashion companies are also trying to apply this in their own programs, producing more garments for older people. The fashion industry still emphasises beauty and young people, so I wanted to present another picture, showing older women wearing my garments.
Virtanen’s materials are biobased and decomposable, developed in a lab. They have been dyed with green and black tea from Finnish fashion-tech company Natural Indigo, and she’s also worked with Mycelium leather from New York-based Forager.
— I wanted to create a really artistic collection. My advisor, Raija Malka, is an artist, not a fashion designer, and I’m working very multidisciplinary. These materials are not ready for customers or commercial use. I wanted to create a collection which could disappear afterwards using it, using materials that actually get older over time. And I don’t know what’s going to happen with them in a year or so. At some point, it’s possible to decompose if I put them in the soil.
How will you proceed with the project?
— I’m really interested in the aspect of aging and biomaterials, Virtanen shares, to actually put my garments in the soil and see what happens. These are living garments, and I would like to continue making this kind of evolving pieces.
As long as they last.
— As long as they last. But I don’t want them to last forever!
Ella Fabritius’ MA thesis at Aalto is an industrially jacquard woven tapestry made of recycled yarns.
— I was in contact with two of the bigger secondhand stores in Finland, and they donated their leftover garments that no one wanted to buy, which were going to be sent away anyway.
— In total, I studied 400 unsold secondhand garments to see what kind of garments are left unsold. After that, I brought some of the pieces and interviewed consumers in group discussions to see why they chose to leave stuff behind in secondhand stores. I then made the pattern out of the garments that I analysed to showcase and communicate my research.
What did they say when you interviewed them?
— They were very, very aware of the situation and the fashion industry’s challenges, so they wanted to buy things that would last for them, with good quality, from brands that they trusted. Garments with bad materials and that just didn’t speak to them were left behind. They also explained the oversaturation of similar-looking things, such as black garments, that you have to look through very carefully to actually find what you want. They said they might not even go into that in the store.
What have you learned from the project?
— I’m feeling quite positive, because I met quite many very passionate people, and I feel like we’re slowly moving in the right direction.
What’s your view on the growing discussion that we’re now overconsuming second-hand, which makes it not so sustainable after all?
— It was definitely in the back of my head during the project. I didn’t go into that exact subject because that would have broadened my research. I definitely think that’s one of the problems of this market. But it’s a young one, it’s evolving.
Will you continue the research?
— Maybe. I’m quite interested in the privilege that is in the possibility to ’participate’ in sustainability. Everyone doesn’t have access to knowing everything about what they should choose, so I might want to continue with something like that to see how we could make it accessible for everyone.
In her research project, Aalto student Alba Arillo García has explored how to bring death a part of our lives.
— Now, it’s quite detached, she says, and in fashion, we tend to become very attached to what we do and what we have, and perhaps the value in what we make in the future also comes from knowing that it’s not permanent and that it’s eventually going to disappear.
In her project, Arillo García has worked with biodegradable materials that are mainly conceived to help a human body decompose into the soil.
— I’ve created burial garments, such as a shroud, to cover the body for the funeral ritual. Visitors here at Aalto are also invited to put flowers or messages into the pockets to bring death closer to us.
Most of the materials are soluble in water and non-resistant to humidity, and when Arillo García tested them for burial, under the same conditions as humans are buried, in an observatory, they all decomposed and disappeared.
— I’ve used leather-like fabrics, including bio leather, foils, and other materials that come from nature. They mainly come from organic waste, for instance reclaimed matter from the ground or the forest, and things that I found, such as pine bark, flowers, and cellulose fibres. I also developed my own glue to assemble things, so everything is put together with biodegradable glue.
Will you continue with the project?
— The impermanence of what I do is my main focus right now. I’ve applied for funding to do my PhD, have more tests done, and have more time to develop materials. Now, I have created 150 different ones in an archive that I can use for anything. I have put them in 9 categories. One of them is cellulose-based leathers that come from food. I also have biofoils with colours from nature, which include pine bark powder, pine needles, and tulip stems. I just look for things that I like in colour and scent, turn them into a powder, and experiment with them.
It’s fair to say you’re very much into materials.
— I have been 10 years in the fashion industry, which is a bit problematic right now. I think that bringing values that detach us from these forever-lasting fibres and the ideas of being young forever and eternal perfection, and embracing decay as part of our nature, is needed for everyone, Arillo García concludes.
