Last Day in Helsinki, Last Real Day of Vacation

I've got my 24-hour transit pass good for my last 24 hours in Helsinki. Let's go!

One week and a half into this trip and I've just about adjusted to the 10-hour time zone shift induced jet lag. And that means it's about time to go home.

I was thinking about visiting a few museums and the Suomenlinna Fortress today.

The Suomenlinna Fortress is the fortification built by the Swedes on an island that is a 15-minute boat ride from Helsinki's harbor. The walls of the fortification and the museums on the island are not supposed to be much, but on a warm sunny day in Helsinki, walking the park-like island is supposed to be a treat. And while it is (finally!) sunny, it is decidedly not warm. So I nix the fortress idea and, instead, decide that I will visit a few museums and sweat in a hot sauna afterwards to warm my chilled bones. Besides, I need to save something for a return trip to Finland.

Of course that means walking past Helsinki's famous Three Blacksmiths.

The first up on the two-museum day tour is the Kiasma.

This is the modern art museum. As a general rule, in a modern art museum, generally I hate the collection. I find modern (or, worse, post-modern) art to be obvious and devoid of any actual artistic or creative talent. And if you think "who am I to judge what is art?", then I would say if you think us mere mortals cannot judge what is art, what is the product of genuine talent, what is creative, and what is worth preserving in a museum, then I would say: "Why have museums?" If all is worthy, then why travel to a museum when a ketchup-stained napkin in your local McDonalds is just as much "art" as what has been curated at your local "modern art" museum?

Well, there is a reason. To look at the people looking at that art, staring at the works hung on the walls as if they were the work of a modern-day da Vinci or van Gogh and they are trying to find the meaning hidden within.

And this was the most impressive art work I saw at the Kiasma:

Yes, it is the heroic statue of Mannerheim on Mannerheiminaukio (Mannerheim Square) visible from one of the museum's window. The "modern art" inside could not compete.

The Kiasma was hosting a special exhibition of the work of "Tom of Finland," who is renowned for his "homoerotoc" drawings of males with exaggerated muscles and genitals. Unlike most "modern art" artists, "Tom of Finland" does have genuine artistic talent. His work may not be your thing, but unlike the other "art" in this museum, there is artistic talent in evidence.

It was hilarious to see people -- especially women -- intently staring at the drawings, studying them as if these were Rembrandts. The one below is representative of the work of "Tom of Finland":

Actually, it is far tamer than much of what was on display. Worth noting in the one above is how much the man on the left looks like Morrissey. From the neck up only, of course. Still, I'm guessing Morrissey would very much approve.

Compare/contrast with this:

A room in blue light with a couple of strands of light hanging from the ceiling. Yes, this truly is on par with Michelangelo's Pieta.

You can see the light strands better in this picture. And you see the name of the artist: Daniel Steegman Mangrane.

Here is an artistic rendering of the Finnish Parliament building.

There was blue plastic on the window looking across the street at the Parliment building. I snapped a picture. I too am a modern artist! I am making an artistic statement about the limitations of perception and how the world will look different if you are viewing it through a different color. Free your mind and the rest will follow.

In the room with all the blue light, there was a "room" sectioned off with yellow plastic.

 

Yellow! Blue! It's like they are different, together.

You are invited to enter the yellow room and, once inside, you are to smash an orange. But not Gallagher style. You were to use your hands. Not a mallet. Not even a plastic mallet of a third color.

Only they had no oranges that day.

But notice the artistic statement by the artiste. You were in blue. You walk into yellow. And it's ... green! One color plus a second color equals a third color! Art!

The people are wandering around the blue room. The instructions tell us we are to interact with the art, but, for the most part, the people's interaction involves wandering around in a somewhat confused state.

But there was this, too, so it wasn't all artistic light.

It's a giant leaf. I believe it is supposed to represent a leaf. So we're not dealing with abstract expressionism, at least.

While we are told to interact with most of the art, this one, which looks much more susceptible to interaction -- we could pick up the pieces and move them around -- the one that looks like it could be interacted with, this is the one we are told not to touch, per the sign in the bottom corner of the pic.

And that leads to the confusion evident in this picture:

You can't touch the one thing that looks interact-able. Once again, they have given us no oranges to smash.

It's time to leave.

On another floor, there was creepy art.

One law firm in Las Vegas -- the Kamer Zucker Abbott firm -- has these creepy pictures on the wall of their conference room where there were Native Americans warriors who were camouflaged by/morphed into birch trees in the forest. It was unsettling. These reminded me of those.

Enough making fun of modern art. Let's go to the next museum.

It's only a short walk away.

Past the landmark Helsingin päärautatieasema, Central Railway Station.

To the Ateneum.

This is the national art museum.

Across the plaza from the national art museum is this interesting looking building.

It is the Suomen Kansallisteatteri, the Finnish National Theater. But that's not our destination. This is:

Let's so inside.

This is the first piece that caught my eye. It is a scene depicting Christ with Mary Magdalene.

Never in my life have I ever seen such a blonde, Nordic-looking Jesus. I know different cultures make Christ look like one of their own (and he was), but this is taking that to a Nordic extreme.

Unlike the ultra-modern art museum the Kiasma, the Ateneum is packed. I salute the artistic tastes of the Helsinki population.

This one looks like it could easily be turned into one of Tom of Finland's drawings on the walls at the Kiasma:

"From the Port of Copenhagen III".

Or, how about this one?

"Duke Karl Insulting the Corpse of Klaus Fleming".  Who is Duke Karl? Why is he insulting the corpse of Klaus Fleming? And what did Klaus Fleming ever do to warrant his corpse being insulted? The insult appears to be Duke Karl grabbing Klaus Fleming's white beard. Questions lost to time.

This is in the section of museum dedicated to the art of this man:

Who is also this man, if you prefer statuary.

The artist is Finnish artist Albert Edelfelt. The portrait is a self-portrait. The statue of him was done by someone else.

The top floor was all Edelfelt. He had an impressive body of work. Much of it was distinctly Finnish. Finnish people. Prominent Finns. Finnish scenes. But in his day he was in demand throughout Europe for his portraiture and he painted scenes from the rest of Europe, too.

This is Market Square in Helsinki:

You may recognize Market Square from the photograph taken by travel blogger Robert Spretnak:

Or maybe not.

Anyway, there was more to the Ateneum than simply the work of Albert Edelfelt.

Most of the work in the museum is by Finnish (or at least Nordic) artists. Yes, there might be a minor Gaugin in the midst of the collection, but this is all about the best of Finnish art from the time when art was art.

Although, as much as I am complimenting the Finnish art, the sculpture above, titled "Elk Calf," by Jussi Mäntynen, looks like an alligator to me.

Since the vast majority of the collection is by Finns, the art is arranged thematically. This is the rural section of the museum. Hence:

"Forest Interior," by Bernt Lindholm. Compare/contrast with the rare modern art piece in this museum:

Unto Pusa, artist. "Forest" is the name of the work. Tell me that "modern" forest required the same level of talent and inspiration as the classical "Forest Interior." The de-evolution of art from the late 19th Century to the mid 20th perfectly captured by two adjacent works in one museum.

This is a weird one: "Telephos Nursed by a Doe," by Emil Wolff. I guess this is a variation on theme of the statues in the Roman world of Romulus and Remus being suckled by a she-wolf. I guess if, given the choice, it would be preferable to be suckled by a doe, as the doe would be less like to rip you to shreads if you bite too hard on the milk source.

This is a great example of photo-realism in art:

"Pigs and Magpies," by Ferdinand von Wright. Not a Finnish sounding name at all, but the label denotes him as such. I know you can't tell from a photograph of a painting, but the animals in that picture, especially the magpies, really do look like they are high-quality photographs.

On the other hand, this one I will criticize. Not with the force I criticize the "modern," but criticism nonetheless.

"Old Mare," by Nils Kreuger. From 1909, right before Kadinsky and his pals destroyed art with abstract expressionism. This is very derivative of van Gogh. But it's OK to single out this work for censure. Mr. Kreuger was a Swede. Not a Finn.

On the other hand, I will follow up my criticism of the classical with some (rare) praise for the modern:

"Melody of War," by Yngve Bäck. From 1944, which is in the midst of World War II and Finland's fight to avoid the fate of the Baltics and be re-absorbed into the Soviet Empire. This is Mr. Bäck's most famous work. And it should be. It does capture the horrors of war. It may not be "Guernica," but it's legitimate art. Even I think so. And I'm a philistine when it comes to modern art.

Back to praise for the classical:

 

"Matti," by Alvar Cawén. This artist worked in both classical and modern genres. Again, the photograph of the painting does not do it justice, but what makes this outstanding are the eyes. They really do stare at you.

Of course, some could care less about art:

Again, the art was not all Finns punctuated by the occasional Swede. This is from Rodin.

This is from Max Ernst.

But, generally, Finland's national art museum is all about the Finns. As it should be.

My next stop was to sweat in a sauna. No pictures because you do not want to see me "dressed" for the sauna. I love the sauna because it reminds me of Las Vegas in the summertime. After the sweat, it was time for supper. I wasn't feeling particularly adventurous, so back I went to Cafe Bar No. 9.

I ordered the dish that I was thinking about getting the night before when I chose the chicken in the creamy lemon yogurt sauce. This is the Pablo:

Penne and chorizo, in a cream sauce, washed down by the local beer that the menu recommended pairing with the Pablo.

And that concludes not only the Finland leg of this trip, but this trip. I enjoyed both Sweden and Finland, but they are very different even though there is much about the two that are the same. The day in Tallinn was the only thing "touristy" I did on this trip, but that's because I skipped the Abba Museum in Stockholm.

Where to next? The jet lag adjustment keeps getting more difficult. And with being truly solo in my work, I don't think I will be scheduling vacations this long for awhile. Who knows? I have nothing planned and, as of right now, no plans to make plans.