Finnish innovation shrinks lab-grade imaging to fingertip size for everyday use

Agate Sensors is commercializing a breakthrough that brings the power of hyperspectral imaging from the laboratory to entirely new markets – in an unprecedented size and price range.

Traditionally, hyperspectral cameras rely on large optical and mechanical components to scatter and filter light. Their size ranges from that of a toaster to that of a suitcase, with prices starting at 50,000 euros.

Agate Sensors’ version fits on your fingertip and is designed to be affordable enough that it could one day be included in every mobile phone.

“In the future, you’ll be able to use your phone to check the ripeness of an avocado or the freshness of fish at the grocery store,” Mikael Westerlund, the company’s chief business officer, explains. “A remote doctor could use data from a smartwatch to monitor your stress levels, blood pressure or iron deficiency. Top athletes could track their lactate levels, and forest owners could monitor the condition of their trees using drones.”

The project reflects Finland’s strength in deep-tech innovation, where university research is sparking globally relevant startups.

How to spot the Northern Lights in Finland

Where? Choose a location where you can see the northern sky with an unobstructed view. If there are lights around, make sure they are behind you in the south. During the winter months, there are very few hours of daylight in northern Finland, which makes it an excellent destination for spotting the Northern Lights.

How can I tell they really are the Northern Lights? Social media is full of colourful Northern Lights pictures, but the most common colour is light green, which can be easily confused with clouds. However, Northern Lights move faster and more irregularly than clouds.

How to catch them on camera? You can take photos of the Northern Lights with a camera or with a smartphone. Just remember to adjust the ISO, for example, to 800–1600 and set the shutter speed to several seconds. The modern camera lens sees the Northern Lights better than the human eye, so it is possible to get a photo of the Northern Lights without actually seeing them yourself.

By Anna Ruohonen, ThisisFINLAND Magazine

Project helps flying squirrels succeed in Finnish capital region

The Flying Squirrel LIFE project brought together researchers and city planners to protect one of the country’s most iconic yet endangered forest species.

The Siberian flying squirrel (Pteromys volans) has a range that stretches from northern Europe through Asia, but within the EU it is found only in Finland and Estonia.

The project focused on Espoo, a municipality just west of Helsinki, where rapid urban growth is reshaping the landscape. “By 2060, Espoo could have 20,000 more residents than today,” says project manager Laura Lundgren. “But the city must still have room for diverse nature. In this ambitious project, we learned that urban development and the protection of flying squirrels are possible at the same time.”

Researchers found that careful city planning works: flying squirrels were seen using the very forest corridors and “jumping posts” designed for them. The animals even proved more adaptable than expected, nesting in pine trees and visiting apple trees in courtyards. Espoo will continue to plant trees, maintain habitat routes and monitor the species for at least 20 more years.

Staying playful: A Finnish artist combines fatherhood with creative freedom

European television audiences were captured in 2024 by a moustachioed man sporting very short denim shorts and a curly blond mullet.

“No rules!” he sang, dancing around with boundless energy in the beloved Eurovision Song Contest.

Doing your own thing and ignoring made-up boundaries is more than just a catchphrase for Windows95Man – and the man behind the character.

Teemu Keisteri is an artist who knows no rules when it comes to artistic expression: he’s a trained photographer, painter, animator, gallerist, DJ and musician. In the art scene, he’s known for his Ukkeli character, a yellow figure with a big yellow butt, seen in playful paintings, murals and clothes.

One of Keisteri’s fondest childhood memories is of children’s art club, where he started at only five years old. His teacher there encouraged artistic freedom and exploration.

“She said: ‘Teemu, when you draw, you don’t have to use an eraser, mistakes don’t exist.’ I remember being super stoked about that.”

Now, he tries to encourage the same creative and boundary-ignoring spirit in his four-year-old son.

Experiences that stick

Keisteri’s creative streak was encouraged throughout his childhood. His engineer parents took the kids to art shows and cultural events from an early age.

Keisteri still remembers the awe he felt walking around Töölö Bay in Helsinki during the Night of the Arts, an annual celebration of culture open to everyone. The summer night was filled with people, artworks and a floating stage where musicians were playing children’s music.

“These things have stuck with me since,” he says.

Exposure to culture in all its forms was transformative for him, so he’s trying to pass the same experiences on to his son.

Keisteri and his wife, Dutch artist Annick Ligtermoet, share a studio close to their home in Espoo, in the Helsinki capital area. The four-year-old  spends a lot of time there, too, doing his own thing. Keisteri proudly says he has become a skilled DJ, mixing songs like “No Rules” by his old man and tunes from Star Wars.

“It’s important to let him explore. I want him to have the freedom to be himself and experiment on his own terms.”

Father and son often get creative together, painting photorealistic watercolour versions of the son’s favourite Star Wars characters and hanging them on his bedroom walls. The duo also takes photographs with an old film camera.

“It’s a fun, slow activity; we take photos of interesting things, send the film to be developed and wait for the photographs to arrive. It’s a good alternative to screen time.”

Culture for kids and adults alike

A small child leans curiously against a mirror at a museum.

A young visitor explores the Museum of Play in Espoo, near Helsinki, which highlights the history and joy of playing.Photo: Pekka Elomaa / The Museum Play

Fathers in Finland are actively involved in their children’s lives. Sometimes, Keisteri takes his son out of kindergarten for the day so the two can visit a museum or an activity park. Keisteri and other local dads also have a chat group for event suggestions.

“There are so many activities available for children, often for free, at least here in the capital region,” he says. “Almost every weekend, we head out and stumble upon something interesting.”

The Finnish children’s culture scene is vibrant, with exhibitions, plays, concerts, workshops and other events for kids of all ages. Keisteri and his son especially enjoy activities where they can get active, creative and playful together. One of their favourite places is the playground next to the monument to composer Jean Sibelius, where children – and playful adults – can make music with steel instruments.

Keisteri admits he dreams of building his own playground.

“It would combine play and art, and kids could climb and explore art physically. And it would definitely have a yellow butt slide,” he says, laughing.

“I try to keep a childlike playfulness in everything I do. Also my art is all about playful experimentation.”

Finnish children’s culture: Teemu’s tips

  • Leikki – The Museum of Play
    “A fantastic museum in Espoo showcasing the history of play and toys. You can of course play inside the museum, and there is a lot to see and do for smaller kids, too.”
  • Children’s band Fröbelin Palikat
    “We often put their music videos on the big screen and dance along. In summer 2024, the band played for thousands of adults at Ruisrock, one of the biggest festivals in Finland.”
  • The Sibelius Monument
playground
    “An incredible open play­ground next to the monument of Jean Sibelius, Finland’s most famous composer. There are swings and climbing structures, and kids can play different kinds of steel instruments.”

By Lotta Heikkeri, ThisisFINLAND Magazine

What one person’s path to speaking Finnish reveals about life and language

Take something completely foreign and make it familiar to you. That’s how Irina Pravet approaches learning new words – and entire languages.

Take the word kaunis, the Finnish word for beautiful. “In Finnish, beautiful starts with a cow,” she says. (The letters “kau” in Finnish sound very similar to the word “cow” in English.)

“At some point later down the road, the word turns into what it actually means. You lose the sounds, in a sense, but you innately embody the meaning.”

And meaning is what matters most to Pravet, not words in their technical sense. And she does have a lot of words: she is a polyglot, someone who can speak multiple languages.

“One of those Nordic countries”

A woman walking on a fallen tree trunk in a park in autumn.

Irina Pravet says that her clients have gone from avoiding Finnish to actively seeking out ways to speak more.

When Pravet stumbled across kaunis during her university exchange in Mannheim, Germany, she already spoke Romanian (her mother tongue and the language of her country of birth), French (having learned it in preschool after her family immigrated to Canada), English (from TV and school), and Spanish and German (from having studied them since her early teens).

“I don’t think I’d ever met any Finns before moving to Germany, and the language felt so exotic,” she says. “All I knew was that Finland was one of those Nordic countries up there, but I probably wouldn’t have been able to place it on a map.”

Whilst in Germany, she also stumbled across something else: a young Finnish man. With him, Pravet learned yet another new Finnish phrase: Sinä olet ihana (“You are lovely”).

Contribute, belong, feel at home

A close-up of a hand reaching towards light purple flowers in a park.

For Irina Pravet, language is a tool, not an end goal.

Having followed the ihana man to Finland, Pravet found herself needing to learn yet another language. However, all the courses she took, the homework she did, and the materials she found didn’t seem to help her do what she most wanted: to fit in, to express herself in situations that mattered to her. Previously, she’d learned languages mostly by using them; this time, classrooms and grammar exercises weren’t taking her where she wanted to go.

After the third course she took, she had plenty of grammar in her head without even having the vocabulary to use it.

“It took a lot of banging my head against the wall until I figured out something that would work,” she says.

She decided to put herself – not the language – at the centre. She didn’t want to learn Finnish for the sake of learning it; she wanted to participate, contribute, belong, feel at home. She started to question the assumptions she had held about how the process was supposed to go, as well as some of the advice she had been given.

“Through a number of different epiphanies, I realised that there’s a gap between studying the language and speaking it,” she says.

Starting with what matters most

A woman in front of dense green foliage, smiling at the camera.

As a “multibelonger,” Irina Pravet has more than one culture she can call her own.

Pravet has turned her past frustrations into a mission. Her company aims to help people who’ve been studying Finnish to actually speak it.

It’s not a method, she emphasises, but an approach. Just like she herself started to do all those years ago, she now encourages others to put the focus on themselves and use their daily lives as classrooms.

Another important aspect is understanding the circumstances in which people are using the language and how those circumstances might impact the outcome. Pravet points out that being tired, or feeling judged or assessed, ties up the cognitive energy needed for speaking, and understanding that can help people give themselves some grace.

By focusing on what they find most important and what’s making the biggest difference to them, her clients have said they’ve started seeing a path forward. Sometimes she notices the moment when things click into place. It’s immensely gratifying and creates an upward cycle of inspiration.

It’s inspiring for her, too. She’s still learning, as well, and she wants to be really transparent about that. “If anything, I was my first client,” she says.

Now, Pravet can live her life in Finnish, from attending sales meetings and workshops to chatting with fellow dogwalkers and nurturing friendships. She believes that with the right tools, the same is within reach for everyone.

So has she reached her goal? Does she feel like she fits in now?

“I’m a multibelonger,” she responds. “I have several languages and cultures I can call my own. But Finland is definitely home.”

By Anne Salomäki, October 2025; photos by Emilia Kangasluoma

Libraries the Finnish way: welcoming, wild and wonderful

Weaving tales

What? Book club meets knitting club

Why? According to science, handcrafts are good for the brain, stimulating several parts of it. Contrary to what many might assume, our thinking doesn’t happen only in the brain: there’s also something called embodied cognition. Working with our hands can make us more vigilant – or relaxed. Either way, making things is a perfect combination with listening to stories.

The literal translation of “Novellikoukku” is “Short-Story Hook” – it is a club where people gather to crochet, knit or do other handicrafts while listening to short stories read aloud. It is a social event in a soothing atmosphere, a great example of what many Finns consider cozy. Plus – you can join even if you don’t have a handicraft! The same goes for several other storytelling sessions libraries offer for both kids and adults.

Music to all ears

A woman talks into a podcast-style microphone, hands resting on the stand.

Many Finnish libraries offer soundproof recording studios for podcasts, music or voice overs – free to use with a library card.Photo: Maija Astikainen

What? Music & recording studios

Why? Not quite ready for the Abbey Road Studios with your band? No worries, you can start recording in Finland, and it’s free. Finnish libraries have music studios that can be used for playing, recording and mixing music – some even host workshops for mixing and mastering music. Most studios have both acoustic and electric instruments like guitars, drums and piano. Who needs a garage when there are public practice rooms in libraries?

If you prefer to stick to just listening and cherishing those good old Beatles albums, many libraries provide tools for listening and digitalising LP records, cassettes and VHS tapes.

Creators welcome!

What? 3D printers

Why? 3D printing is a useful way to create something you need, like a detail to a doll house, prototypes or any missing parts that are made of plastic. Moreover, it is also a fun and subtle way to learn new digital skills such as 3D modelling.

Many Finnish libraries have workshops or makerspaces with 3D printers that are free to use. All you need to do is bring your own design on a USB drive (models can be downloaded for free online) and let the machine print it from non-toxic, biodegradable PLA plastic. The library staff is there to assist with printing, as with other digital tasks.

Other facilities in library workshops typically include sewing machines, vinyl cutters, laser cutters and laminators.

From chess to Space Invaders

What? Games and game rooms

Why? Finland has one of the largest and most vibrant game scenes in Europe. It is no surprise that Finns take gaming very seriously, even when it comes to libraries. Finnish libraries offer a wide range of games from traditional board games to digital games and game consoles, along with spaces to play.

Visit the lobby of Oodi, Helsinki’s main library, on any given day, and you’ll see people of all ages playing chess. Fancy some games but have no one to play with? Join one of the game clubs that several libraries host.

Games can also be borrowed and taken home with a library card just like books. And not just latest or current games are available but also retro games from the 1970s.

Reading tales and wagging tails

A child sits on the library floor reading to a dog wearing a yellow scarf, surrounded by children’s books.

Reading dogs offer quiet support for developing readers. The dog’s only job is to listen.Photo: Maarit Hohteri

What? Reading dogs

Why? Library dogs, or reading dogs, have an important job: being present. They listen when people, mainly kids, read to them. They don’t judge slow readers, nor do they comment or correct mistakes. According to studies, reading to a dog relieves stress and improves reading fluency and comprehension. This is especially useful for people who have problems with reading.

Library dogs are carefully chosen and trained for the job, and the activities are based on the voluntary work of their owners. The first reading dogs entered libraries in 2011, and nowadays there are also reading ponies or even cows, though not on library premises.

Other library activities that run on a voluntary basis include “reading grandmas and grandpas”, as well as language cafés: informal discussion groups where speaking Finnish – or other languages – can be practiced.

The bold and the beautiful

People walk across a sunlit square toward the copper exterior of a modern building.

Kirkkonummi’s Fyyri Library glows like a beacon. The name is a nod to both the Finnish word for a steamship furnace and the Swedish word for lighthouse. Photo: Tuomas Uusheimo

What? Award-winning architecture

Why? There’s something very Finnish in the fact that some of the most renowned architectural landmarks in Finland are libraries. Libraries are public spaces cherishing education, literacy and culture, some of the most valuable foundations of Finnish society.

The city libraries of Helsinki, Turku and Tampere are all must-visit places for architecture admirers, but there’s also award-winning architecture by leading Finnish architects in smaller cities and towns, like the Fyyri library in the southern town of Kirkkonummi.

For lovers of architectural history, the northern city of Rovaniemi boasts a library designed in the 1960s by Alvar Aalto, the master and grand old man of Finnish modernism. Going even further back in history, the National Library by C.L. Engel from the 19th century is a hidden gem and a tranquil retreat on a busy university campus, right in the centre of Helsinki.

By Taina Ahtela, ThisisFINLAND Magazine

Lahti, Finland chooses most beautiful building as city celebrates 120th anniversary

Completed in the 1898, Lahti Manor represents the historicist architecture of the late 19th century, which admired past eras and national heritage. It was built as a home for August Fellman, a member of Parliament who had a significant influence in the development of industry and culture in Lahti.

The manor’s architectural style emphasised the roots of Finnish culture and society. In 1965, the building became part of Lahti City Museum, which continues to operate there today.

The vote was organised as part of Lahti’s celebrations in 2025 of its 120th anniversary, which culminate with a series of events in late October.

Why are saunas so dear to people in Finland?

Nea Mänty, 24, student, 1950s cottage sauna on Lake Myllylampi, Vihti 

“​At the cottage we use the sauna every day. It’s an essential part of our family’s cottage life. The sauna is small but effective. It heats up in half an hour and fits five people.

In the city I try to go to sauna at least once a week. Electric saunas are OK, but nothing beats wood-heated ones like this. When you light the fire and feed it yourself, you feel a different kind of ownership for löyly (sauna steam). My best friend is also a sauna enthusiast. When she’s visiting, she always builds a fire under the washing water tank while I take care of the fire under the kiuas (stove). It’s turned into a little routine that just flows.

Not everybody likes sauna scents, but my mother and I use them, especially when days get darker towards the winter. A drop of tar or eucalyptus in the löyly water creates a lovely atmosphere.

I like to throw water on the hot stones so that I can really feel it in my back. Then I go for a swim in the lake and repeat this about five times. Swimming is great for winding down if I’m stressed.

For me this is a sacred place. When I was a kid, my mother told us a story about a sauna-elf to make us behave in sauna. If you didn’t, you would upset the elf. As a young adult it’s no longer about the elf, but if I ever happen to slip a swearword when talking with my friends in sauna, I scold myself immediately. It’s important to maintain everyone’s sauna peace.”

In the foreground, green grass stalks are in focus, while in the blurry background, a woman climbs a ladder from a lake onto a dock.

“When you light the fire and feed it yourself, you feel a different kind of ownership for löyly (sauna steam).”

Four photos arranged together: View from inside a wooden sauna toward an open window, where summer greenery glows softly in the warm light. A woman in a yellow raincoat leans over, blowing into a wood-fired sauna stove with a stack of smooth grey stones on top. A forested path leads down to a lake between tall pines, with a white boathouse visible. Inside a sauna, a wooden water bucket is in focus, with a hand lifting a dripping ladle.

Ari Johansson, 68, retired, Rajaportti sauna, Tampere (the oldest public sauna in Finland)

“​I’ve been going to Rajaportti for 68 years now. When I was a baby, my mum would take me to the women’s side, and when I got a bit older I joined my dad and went to the men’s side. I’ve never gone to any other public sauna, except when Rajaportti has been closed for renovation.

In those days people in the surrounding area, Pispala, lived in very small flats and didn’t have their own washing facilities, so a public sauna was a necessity for them. Now it’s become a place where people go to relax. Rajaportti’s secret is that it has this perfect balance of humidity and heat.

In 1989 the city was planning to replace the sauna with a parking lot. As a response the sauna-goers set up Rajaportti Sauna Association and told the authorities they would like to start running the sauna on their own. They were laughed at but given permission to play with it for a year. Nowadays Rajaportti is a big tourist attraction with visitors from all around the world.

Public saunas like Rajaportti are very much about community: you don’t just wash your body, your mind gets purified too. At Rajaportti men and women have separate steam rooms and have their own chats there. Outside there is a shared area for cooling down between löyly. That’s where another set of talks takes place. Topics usually include sports and current events. We try to avoid discussing politics, because no-one should get their feelings hurt in sauna.”

Four photos arranged together: Inside a large sauna, a row of plastic buckets and ladles rest on a wooden bench. Smoke stains mark the surface around a small metal door in a brick stove. Outside a sauna, men and women sit on benches, wrapped in towels, conversing in the open air. Inside a sauna changing room, a green-painted wooden bench runs beneath a rack of hooks where a towel is hanging.

Text by Ninni Lehtniemi, photos by Heli Blåfield