Finnish figure skater Iida Karhunen glides into the spotlight

Television cameras focused on Iida Karhunen’s eyes as she held her opening pose at the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan, Italy, waiting for her music to begin. She was 17 years old at the time, and it was her first appearance at that level, but she appeared calm and self-assured.

As the music started, she blinked in time with the rhythm, her eyes catching the light, before gliding across the ice. With a confident smile, she shifted into intricate step sequences, powerful spins and demanding jumps, landing each one cleanly as the programme progressed.

A path shaped by ambition

Iida Karhunen stands in sunlight with her hair tied back, touching her head in front of a fabric backdrop.

Iida Karhunen trains and studies in Lappeenranta, southeastern Finland.Photo: Emmi Korhonen/Lehtikuva

Reaching this level required years of commitment. Karhunen first stepped onto the ice at the age of two, inspired by her older sisters, who were also competitive skaters. By five, she had already entered her first competition, finishing third, a result that fuelled her ambition.

“I have always been competitive and goal-oriented,” Karhunen says. “In primary school, I followed major international competitions and decided that was the level I wanted to reach.”

Her training schedule is rigorous, with more than 20 hours of training spread across six days each week. She combines time on the ice with off-ice fitness, dance and strength training. There are also training camps and competitions.

“Figure skating requires versatility and constant self-improvement, which I truly enjoy,” she says.

Karhunen is one of 21 athletes chosen for the Finnish Olympic Committee’s Next Generation Team Finland, launched in May 2026. It is a new individual support programme for the country’s top emerging talents. They represent a range of disciplines, including cross-country skiing, snowboarding, judo, orienteering and others.

The thrill of the jump

Iida Karhunen skates in a black costume with arms extended as her skirt ripples in motion behind her.

Karhunen in competition action at the 2026 Winter Olympics.Photo: Natacha Pisarenko/AFP/Lehtikuva

For Karhunen, stepping onto the ice is always a source of joy. It is where she feels most like herself. While she enjoys all aspects of skating, jumps are her favourite, despite being the most technically challenging.

“The feeling of landing a difficult jump successfully is incredibly rewarding,” Karhunen explains.

During a competition, however, there’s little time to celebrate a jump. You immediately have to shift your focus to the next element.

Watch Iida Karhunen train at her home rink in Lappeenranta, southeastern Finland.
Video: Courtesy of Iida Karhunen

“You need strong speed and control on the edge of the skate,” Karhunen says, describing the mechanics of a jump. “Then you take off, keeping your body in a compact flight position, and land on a deep edge with stability and flow.”

Balancing two worlds

Finnish figure skater Iida Karhunen wears a floor-length gown and stands on a snowy path beneath frost-covered trees, looking over her shoulder.

On the way to the ball: At Wanhat, students dress up in formal attire and perform ballroom dances. Photo: Courtesy of Iida Karhunen

At the time of writing, alongside her skating career, Karhunen is in her second year of upper secondary school in Lappeenranta, southeastern Finland. Balancing training and academics requires careful planning.

“I often go to the rink before school, then again during lunchtime or after classes,” she says. “Fortunately, my teachers are very supportive and flexible.”

Her Olympic debut coincided with another important milestone, Wanhat, a traditional Finnish celebration for second-year students, marking their transition into their third and final year after the older students leave to prepare for their final exams.

“Everything worked out in the end,” Karhunen says. “I got to wear a beautiful gown, perform the formal dances we had practiced for months and celebrate the day with my classmates while our families watched.”

Life beyond the ice

Finnish figure skater Iida Karhunen stands on the ice in a decorated competition outfit, holding a medal in her hand.

Karhunen celebrates a competition result earlier in her skating career.Photo: Courtesy of Iida Karhunen

Outside training, Karhunen values time with family and friends. Her best friend is also a figure skater, allowing them to share both training and downtime. At home, she enjoys relaxing with her family and regular video calls with her sisters, who are now studying in other cities.

She also shares a creative hobby with her mother. They bake and decorate cakes, often turning them into small, intricately designed works of art.

Following her Olympic debut and recent international competitions, Karhunen is already focused on the future. Her next big goal is the World Figure Skating Championships in the Finnish city of Tampere in March 2027. She also hopes to qualify for two Grand Prix events in autumn 2026 and the European Figure Skating Championships in Switzerland in January 2027.

“This summer, I will attend several training camps, which I’m really looking forward to,” she says. “During the long school holidays, I can focus fully on improving my skating.”

By Catarina Stewen, May 2026

On Finnish west coast, Neristan’s historic houses enchant visitors

Forests and modern design are two of the things people identify with Finland. Less discussed are its historic wooden towns, where carpentry and creative design from an earlier era are on display.

Neristan, an area of Kokkola on the west coast of Finland, stands as one of the most complete examples.

Look closely and details emerge: decorative window surrounds, old “gossip mirrors” angled towards the street, and inner courtyards that conceal apple trees.

“Neristan” means “lower town” in Swedish, which is one of Finland’s official languages. (Kokkola itself also has a Swedish-language name, Karleby.) The area might resemble an open-air museum, but it’s also a living neighbourhood. Pastel-painted timber houses line a street grid first drawn in the 17th century, and many are still private homes.

A town built by the sea

A close view of a brightly painted wooden façade in Neristan shows yellow latticework within white frames.

Working in timber called for precision and a practised hand.

Isokatu, one of the city’s main thoroughfares, can appear almost suspended in time. But the illusion quickly dissolves. A girl cycles past in a floral dress. A lawnmower kicks into life. An elderly man is walking his dog. Neristan is bustling with activity.

Traditional wooden houses with pastel façades and stone foundations line a sunlit street in Neristan.

The wooden façades are clad in pastel-painted boarding.

When Kokkola was founded in 1620, it lived and breathed by the sea. The Sunti channel once stretched wide and deep enough for ocean-going sailing ships to dock close to the town. Neristan itself was planned along the waterfront; its town plan was formalised in 1665.

A red wooden house in Neristan features white-framed windows and an old-fashioned wall-mounted lantern.

Fires, urban development and land uplift have repeatedly reshaped Kokkola.

Today the channel is a modest ribbon of water, narrowed by post-glacial land uplift, and the shoreline has retreated several kilometres from the centre.

Tar, trade and timber

An aerial view of Neristan shows a grid of pastel wooden houses, tree-lined streets and low historic buildings stretching towards the modern city beyond.

Kokkola was among the first Finnish towns to build two-storey wooden houses as population growth ran up against limited plot sizes.

The town’s prosperity was built largely on tar, the indispensable export of northern Europe’s shipbuilding age, alongside broader seafaring trade. In the 19th century, Kokkola ranked among Finland’s most significant maritime centres. Ships were constructed along the eastern shores of the Gulf of Bothnia, and many of the houses that still stand in Neristan date from this period.

These one- and two-storey wooden homes sheltered sailors, craftsmen, fishermen, shipbuilders and their families. In the 1830s, Kokkola had roughly 2,400 inhabitants, 300 of them sailors.

Life was industrious and often hard. The architecture is modest: painted boarding and symmetrical façades on well-tended plots.

Bicycles stand on a cobbled courtyard in front of the yellow façade of Anders Roos’s historic house in Kokkola’s Oppistan district.

Anders Roos’s house was grand enough to host a visiting Russian emperor in the 19th century.

Across the way lies Oppistan – the “Upper Town” – where the wealthy once settled. Merchants and shipowners built grander residences here. Among them were Anders Donner and Anders Roos, who commissioned the city’s first stone houses in the early 19th century. Roos was reputedly one of the wealthiest men in Finland at the time. His residence now houses part of the K.H. Renlund Museum.

A note of continental ambition arrived in 1842 with the completion of the neoclassical town hall designed by Carl Ludvig Engel, the Prussian-born architect also responsible for Helsinki Cathedral. The building lent Kokkola a measured dose of metropolitan polish.

A weathervane rises above the red wooden tower of the Pedagogio schoolhouse in Kokkola’s Neristan district.

The Pedagogio schoolhouse was completed in 1696.

Nearby stands the Pedagogio, a small, red-painted former schoolhouse completed in 1696. It is the oldest surviving non-ecclesiastical wooden building in an urban setting in Finland.

A plate of heart-shaped waffles sits in bright sunlight, topped with smoked salmon, a creamy sauce and a lemon wedge.

Sweet and savoury waffles have become a summer staple in Kokkola.

Boys once studied Latin, writing and arithmetic there. Today, that block of the town is known as the Museum Quarter and hosts exhibitions, a natural history museum and, in summer, a waffle café whose scent drifts across the courtyard.

The art of watching

A small metal gossip mirror is mounted outside the window of a pale wooden house in Neristan.

Gossip mirrors can still be spotted outside the windows of several houses in Neristan.

What are those small mirrors mounted beside the windows? They are “gossip mirrors.” In the 19th century, women sewing by the window could discreetly monitor the street’s comings and goings via a cleverly angled reflection. Who crossed the road? Which child was testing boundaries?

The mirrors remain. Now they reveal passing cyclists or, if you’re patient, the determined shuffle of a hedgehog at dusk.

Two small wooden houses in Neristan stand side by side, separated by a narrow gate and a traditional street lamp.

The district’s town plan dates back to the mid-17th century.

Most of Neristan’s historic wooden houses remain private homes, and they are much sought after. It was not always so. Particularly in the 1960s, modernisation threatened to erase large swaths of the district. Demolition loomed.

Decorative wood panels, large windows and a rounded corner bay comprise the Jugend-style wooden wing of the former Renlund School.

The wooden wing of the former Renlund School (1909) represents ornate Jugend-style timber architecture.

A change in attitudes allowed the area to survive intact. Today Neristan is safeguarded as a site of cultural and historical significance. Alongside residences, visitors will find boutiques, restaurants, guest accommodation and even a theatre at the district’s edge.

Text and photos by Emilia Kangasluoma, May 2026

Finnish dads are taking more parental leave than ever – let’s take a look

Last autumn, Evert learned to say pappa. He was just over a year old at the time, so the moment itself was nothing unusual. But the fact that he said “dad” before “mum” felt like a small miracle.

His father, thirty-something Eetu Järvinen from Helsinki, knows exactly why.

“It was thanks to parental leave,” he says.

Järvinen spent six months at home with his son after the boy’s mother, Edith, returned to work. He handled the meals, the naps, the nappy changes and the miniature dramas of toddlerhood.

There are places where that might raise some eyebrows. Finland isn’t one of them. It’s more common than ever before for Finnish dads to take parental leave.

A country of fathers

A man pushes a stroller along a residential street lined with a wooden house and a white picket fence.

When Järvinen became a stay-at-home father, it was summer. At that time, Evert was still taking two naps a day.

Finland is home to more than 1.3 million fathers, more than half the adult male population.

Fathers pushing prams have been a familiar sight in Finland for many decades, but parenting has become even more equal in recent years.

In 2022 Finland carried out a major reform of its family leave system, designed to treat both parents as equal caregivers from the outset.

The change increased the number of stay-at-home fathers and reshaped how families divide their parental leave time.

A baby with a soother in its mouth, wearing a blue hat and mittens, lies on a playground slide, viewed from above.

Järvinen has been there for many of Evert’s first moments, such as learning to use the potty, trying new foods, going swimming and attending music performances.

Parental leave is now divided equally between parents, although each can transfer part of their quota to the other.

Both parents are entitled to 160 “working days” of leave, of which 63 days can be transferred. (The definition of “working days” includes Saturdays, but not Sundays or public holidays, so one week usually counts as six days of parental leave.) In addition, the birth parent receives 40 days of pregnancy allowance before the baby arrives.

Taken together, Finland’s parental leave is among the longest in the world.

In addition, fathers in Finland can also make use of “child home care allowance”: If the family has a child under three, a parent or legal guardian can stay home to take care of them. Around 10 percent of fathers utilise this support, typically for five to six months.

Days shaped by small routines

A man in a beige T-shirt and black cap pushes a baby on a swing beneath a tree laden with red berries.

Järvinen’s employer supported his decision to stay home with his child for six months.

When Järvinen began his stint as a stay-at-home father in July, Evert was just under a year old. He could crawl and sit, but couldn’t walk yet.

Järvinen read him plenty of books. Together they marvelled at cars and dogs.

Their days soon settled into a routine. In the morning, father and son would walk Evert’s older sister, Ethel – three and a half years his senior – to daycare. In the afternoon they would pick her up again.

A person wearing glasses gazes off-camera, partially obscured by a grainy filter.

The hardest part of family life, Järvinen says, is sleep – or rather the lack of it. When the children are ill, nobody sleeps. “But somehow you get used to it.”

Between those small journeys the pair filled their time with playground visits, trips to the library, baby music classes and meetings with friends.

They practised eating, sitting on the potty, falling asleep for naps and, eventually, taking first steps. Järvinen baked muffins and omelettes for his toddler and discovered that fusilli pasta was Evert’s favourite meal.

A small child’s hand presses against a window, with a bright green landscape outside.

In late autumn, Evert began practising sleeping in his own bed. When it finally worked, Järvinen felt a real sense of achievement.

Meanwhile, there always seemed to be an ample supply of toys on the floor needing to be tidied up, not to mention pieces of pasta scattered in and around the highchair.

The windows slowly acquired an array of tiny fingerprints.

Learning to walk

An adult wearing glasses gently shades a toddler’s eyes with their hands as the child holds a small toy.

Workplace culture is important when planning parental leave: In Finland, taking leave is widely accepted, even if experiences still vary between sectors.

Evert learned to walk at the end of September. At first, his steps were hesitant. Soon they gathered speed. The world started to open up.

At home Järvinen rearranged the living room furniture so that the sofas formed a safe play area.

An adult sits holding a baby on their lap in a room with chairs lined against the wall, while another person’s legs appear in the foreground.

When Eetu Järvinen and Evert started baby music classes in the autumn, only a few fathers were in attendance. Six months later, every parent in the group was a dad.

Most of all, the toddler enjoyed emptying the contents of the cupboards onto the floor or pulling books from the shelves. Then he discovered climbing.

“That’s when the chasing really began,” Järvinen says, laughing.

For his first birthday, in October, Evert received a toy car.

“He’s completely fascinated by anything with wheels.”

A bundled-up baby sits on a forest floor surrounded by moss-covered tree roots and fallen leaves.

Evert spent the autumn and winter outdoors in the snowsuit that came with the Finnish maternity package.

When he sees a vehicle on the street, he says brr brr. When he sees a dog, he says hau hau. (These are the sounds Finnish children learn, equivalent to “vroom vroom” and “woof woof.”)

Järvinen describes his son as cheerful and easy-going.

“He accepts his fate,” he says with a smile – perhaps a classic second child.

Like many parents, Järvinen sometimes wonders how much of a child’s personality is innate and how much comes from the parents themselves simply becoming more experienced.

A gradual cultural shift

Inside a lift a man holds a baby who stretches an arm out curiously toward the control panel.

Parental allowance in Finland is earnings-related and paid by the Social Insurance Institution of Finland, with a guaranteed minimum for those without income. For many families, that makes staying home a realistic option for both parents, not just mothers.

Järvinen had taken parental leave before. When Evert’s older sister was born, he stayed home for three months. At the time, though, her mother was also at home, finishing her studies, and the coronavirus pandemic limited most activities.

A child holds a bowl of toys while another child lowers a whisk into it.

Although the parental leave reform is designed to treat both parents as equal, most of the transferable days continue to flow to mothers. This suggests that equality remains, for now, a work in progress.

While on parental leave with Evert, Järvinen was alone with the child.

“Everything was 100 percent my responsibility,” he says. “It created a different kind of bond.”

That experience is more common than ever in Finland.

Before the parental leave reform, 57 percent of fathers took their leave separately from the mother. Among children born after the reform, that figure has risen to 73 percent.

Fathers now utilise an average of 68 days of parental leave, equalling a time period of almost three months. Before the reform, the average was only 33 days.

A man adjusts a child sitting on his shoulders in a park with autumn leaves.

“We’ll have to see what kind of little speedster Evert turns out to be,” Järvinen says.

Even so, mothers still use most of the leave. Three out of four fathers shift all transferable days to the mother.

Change, it seems, comes gradually.

The bond that remains

A child in an orange hat sits on a swing in a snowy forest while another person stands nearby, partially hidden behind a tree.

Many of Järvinen’s friends are fathers as well, and some were on parental leave at the same time. “Our conversations have become very child-focused,” he says.

In November, father and son attended a music concert together. Evert was delighted.

In December, they visited the local swimming pool for the first time.

And when January arrived and it was time for Evert to begin day care alongside his sister, Järvinen joined in the orientation visits just as actively as Evert’s mother.

A young child stands on a kitchen floor beside an adult wearing slippers.

Sometimes Evert gets mischievous and pulls his sister’s hair. He also enjoys stealing and hiding his little brother’s socks.

Finnish fathers are also spending more time per day with their children than before. In 2021, they devoted an average of one hour and 43 minutes a day to caring for preschool children – about 40 minutes more than at the start of the 2000s.

Step by step, parenting is becoming more equal.

A toddler plays with colourful toys on a patterned rug while an adult sits nearby watching.

Evert has been fascinated by vehicles from a very young age. He gets excited if a toy has wheels.

Järvinen looks back fondly on his months at home.

“It was a lovely stage of life,” he says. “And my employer was very supportive and positive about the leave.”

That support matters now more than ever: The family recently welcomed a third child into the world. Järvinen already plans to spend another six months at home with the new baby, Elis.

A person pulls a red sled across a snow-covered field during heavy snowfall, with tall lamp posts and trees in the background.

In winter, Evert discovered the joys of sledding. “He didn’t seem to mind the cold or the snow at all,” Järvinen says.

Still, the best part of his time with Evert is simple: the bond they built.

“If he falls or something goes wrong,” Järvinen says, “he wants to come to his dad rather than his mum. That feels pretty special.”

By Emilia Kangasluoma, May 2026
Photos by Jonne Heinonen

Torilla tavataan: Where Finns meet when the country triumphs

Literally meaning “see you on the square” or “meet on the market square,” torilla tavataan captures the idea that everyone should gather to celebrate together. It’s a phrase Finns use when something of national significance happens. Sometimes they shorten it to torille – “to the square.”

Online, the phrase often appears in comment sections when Finland is spotted abroad – for instance, when TV host Conan O’Brien filmed an episode of his show in Finland. Finns will post “torilla tavataan” in response, echoing each other in a kind of shared, tongue-in-cheek celebration in the comments.

But at a moment of true national significance – like a major ice hockey victory or a Eurovision win – the phrase is meant quite literally. And it often turns into an exuberant display of pride, with people dancing, singing, waving flags and climbing on statues – some even swimming in fountains.

In Helsinki, the roads heading to Market Square may become blocked by the sheer amount of traffic, with people stuck in their vehicles honking horns and playing music in celebration.

Heading for the tori

A shirtless man raises his arms in celebration while standing in a fountain on Helsinki’s Market Square, with a crowd and a Finnish flag in the background.

Swimming in fountains has become a tori staple. This guy is celebrating Finland’s first-ever world championship in ice hockey in 1995. Photo: Matti Björkman / Lehtikuva

Although the ancient Greek agora held significance as a place of public assembly, Finland’s tori gatherings are part of a younger tradition. It all started in 1995, when the Finnish men’s national ice hockey team won its first-ever World Championship gold medal and fans gathered to celebrate on Sergel Square, in Stockholm, where the match took place.

The win came against Finland’s friendly rival Sweden – in the Swedish capital, no less. It has been described as a defining moment for Finns at a time when a deep economic crisis was putting the country under strain. The day after the final, as the team returned home, huge celebrations were also held on Market Square in Helsinki.

The following year, the team’s official slogan was “Tavataan torilla,” which later morphed into “torilla tavataan” (both versions have the same meaning, thanks to the flexibility of Finnish word order). Although the team came back empty-handed, the phrase endured.

A crowd of young people gathers at an outdoor celebration, with one person in monster-style face paint raising their hands.

When Lordi won the Eurovision Song Contest in 2006 with their monster costumes and horror-inspired style, some fans joined the celebrations in matching face paint. Photo: Pekka Sakki / Lehtikuva

Another major tori celebration took place in 2006, when monster-metal band Lordi won the Eurovision Song Contest with “Hard Rock Hallelujah.” Since then, further hockey victories have brought people together, to the point that newsrooms are often prepared to send photographers to their local tori whenever there is a chance of a big win.

Sharing in the celebration

Four fans in Finnish sports jerseys and novelty hats cheer and wave Finnish flags on a square in Tampere at dusk.

Tori celebrations, like this one in Tampere in 2022, give people permission to let loose and celebrate in the middle of the city. Photo: Jussi Nukari / Lehtikuva

Torilla tavataan is far from niche. It’s even included in Finland’s official national emojis, described as “the feeling when something so great happens, you just have to share it with somebody.”

In 2019, the men’s ice hockey World Championship final took place on the same night as the European Parliament elections. Based on media coverage, ice hockey clearly dominated: team captain Marko Anttila was mentioned almost twice as often as Eero Heinäluoma, the most visible election candidate.

Torilla tavataan celebrations may be joyful, but they can also be hard on Helsinki’s most famous fountain statue. Havis Amanda, dating to 1908 and known locally as Manta, was recently renovated, and nowadays a special fence is installed every time a large celebration is anticipated.

And although fans might be disappointed, Havis Amanda probably lets out a sigh of relief every time the opponent scores or the Finnish Eurovision competitor doesn’t bag a maximum score.

By Anne Salomäki, May 2026

Can Finland win Eurovision again? Meet the musicians everyone is watching

A full-scale replica of the Eurovision stage has been built inside a studio at Yle, the Finnish national broadcasting company, in Helsinki. Linda Lampenius, 56, and Pete Parkkonen, 36, are in a good mood.

They’re in demand – not just in Finland, but increasingly across Europe. We ask them about their first impressions of each other, and about what it feels like just before you step onto the stage. The Eurovision Song Contest is one of the world’s largest live music events.

Tell us about your first meeting.

Linda: One day I was in a studio with a team working on a song, and we needed the best male singer. The producer called you.

Pete:  Antti Riihimäki called and asked if I was interested in making a song with Linda Lampenius. I was like, “How about tomorrow?” And it actually happened the very next day.

What were your first impressions?

Pete: It was fun. I was like, “This song needs to be about ice and fire.”

Linda: And my team said, “Hey, we just said that!”

Pete: It kind of clicked very fast.

Linda: We started talking about dogs, because we both have dogs. And then we went back to the song.

Linda Lampenius gestures while speaking to Pete Parkkonen in a studio setting.

Linda Lampenius cites violinist Itzhak Perlman and pop stars Prince and Michael Jackson among her influences.

Linda Lampenius and Pete Parkkonen face each other on an empty stage, talking with theatre seating and equipment in the background.

The duo practised their stage show in Helsinki in April ahead of the Eurovision Song Contest in Vienna in May.

Pete Parkkonen and Linda Lampenius smile while talking together during an interview.

Pete Parkkonen is a fan of Dave Grohl of Foo Fighters and Lenny Kravitz.

Both artists were already well known in Finland before joining forces. Lampenius is internationally recognised as a classical violinist and became a global media personality in the 1990s, even appearing on the TV show Baywatch.

Parkkonen rose to fame in 2008 after becoming a finalist on the Finnish version of the TV singing competition Idols and has since released several successful albums.

They had never met before writing “Liekinheitin” (Flamethrower) together with Vilma Alina Lähteenmäki, Lauri Halavaara and Antti Riihimäki and entering Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu (New Music Competition), the contest that decides who will represent Finland in Eurovision.

How would you describe the song “Liekinheitin”?

Linda: Fire and ice. Lots of feeling and emotion.

Pete: It is an amazing song.

Linda: It is very strong.

Pete: Straightforward.

Linda: Like a rollercoaster.

What’s your earliest Eurovision memory?

Linda: For me it was in the 1970s. We watched it at home. Even if my parents were at the theatre in the evening [both parents were in show business], I always watched Eurovision.

Pete: I don’t remember the first one, but I remember my dad loving Modern Talking – even though they didn’t make it to the finals.

Linda: Which year was that? In 1984?

Pete: Can’t be. I was born in 1990.

(They laugh.)

Pete Parkkonen gestures while talking with Linda Lampenius backstage.

“Have you tried archery?” Lampenius asks Parkkonen. “You look like you are from Robin Hood, you know, a champion or older knight.”
“Okay let’s do that,” Parkkonen says.

“Liekinheitin” combines virtuosic violin, pop vocals and stage effects, including real flames.

Eurovision brings together performers and fans from across Europe and beyond. The 2025 edition attracted 166 million viewers worldwide.

What makes you most nervous about Eurovision?

Pete: Nothing about the song. I’m excited when we are about to go onstage, one or two minutes before the show. We know it’s going to be fully booked; there’s going to be 10,000 people there. I’ve heard the audience is loud.

Linda: There will be so much love. So many different people, but everybody loves the same thing.

Do you have a pre-show ritual?

Pete: For me, it’s breathing. Concentrating on breathing.

Linda: Usually, if I play in a concert, I like to be by myself. I hope we have some privacy.

Pete:  We hype each other up – tsempata in Finnish.

Linda: But a more calm, Finnish [type of] “hype it up.”

(Both laugh again.)

Linda Lampenius rests an arm on Pete Parkkonen’s shoulder as they pose together during an interview.

Pete Parkkonen has a background in pop rock music while Linda Lampenius started her classical music career as a child.

The duo have spent months rehearsing the song and its choreography. What began as a first meeting in the studio in August 2025 has turned into a close working partnership.

Any last-minute warmups?

Pete: Trying to get my heartbeat down before it gets really fast again.

Linda: Warming up is the most important thing. For the body, for breathing and singing, and for me because I have to run in high heels. Otherwise, it might not end well.

Who’s the better runner?

Linda: Him, of course.

Pete: But in high heels, her.

Linda: Because I have been rehearsing.

(Laughter.)

What if you swapped roles? If Linda had to sing and Pete had to play the violin?

Linda: Oh my…

Pete: She could sing! But when she tried to show me how to play [violin], my body was very sensitive to the sounds. So, it was kind of hell for me when I was trying to play. It hurt.

Linda: It wasn’t really beautiful, no.

Pete: I would need a room to practise for ten years.

Linda: But I would not dare to sing, either.

Pete Parkkonen and Linda Lampenius sit close together, smiling at each other.

If Pete Parkkonen and Linda Lampenius win the Eurovision Song Contest, they will go wild with joy – and so will the rest of Finland.

Finland has seen strong Eurovision results in recent years, with Käärijä finishing second in 2023 and Windows95man drawing international attention in 2024. Many still remember Lordi’s 2006 victory with “Hard Rock Hallelujah.” Could this be Finland’s moment again?

How would you dance if you won Eurovision?

Linda: We have a cool one. What was it?

Pete: Two-stepping around.

Linda: If we win, we might not do that.

Pete: I would explode.

Linda: If I do it here, my children will kill me. But if we win, I’m going to go nuts. That’s a deal.

Text and photos by Emilia Kangasluoma, May 2026

 This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Finnish contemporary circus piece Tempo tours Venice, Singapore and more

The two-week dance programme of the Venice Biennale in summer 2026 consists of more than 60 new works, with Kalle Nio’s Tempo the sole Finnish representative.

Tempo features text, movement and hypnotic stage illusions where time runs backward, gravity disappears and the laws of nature dissolve. In the piece, created together with Brazilian choreographer Fernando Melo, Nio combines visual theatre, cinematic expression, contemporary circus and new magic.

Tempo premiered last autumn at the Helsinki Festival. It has garnered significant international interest, and starting in spring 2026 it tours a range of countries, from Singapore to Portugal.

Finnish artists have not often been seen in the performing arts programme of the Venice Biennale. Tero Saarinen’s Hunt was featured previously in the dance lineup, in 2002.

Finnish entrepreneurs’ innovative office pods mix tech and design

Samu Hällfors and Vesa-Matti Marjamäki were annoyed at their boss. He had a habit of making loud phone calls in their company’s open plan office, disturbing everyone as they worked.

“Vesa-Matti complained about the noise and our boss said, ‘Well, I have to call our customers, so build me a phone booth to use.’ Vesa-Matti and I decided to do exactly that,” says Hällfors.

The pair had an entrepreneurial mindset and realised this could be a great business opportunity. They founded the company Framery in 2010 to build the modern equivalent of a phone booth. From such humble beginnings, the company now has almost 500 employees and is listed on the Nasdaq Helsinki stock market. But it hasn’t been easy.

“Creating a pod was 100 times more challenging than we expected,” says Hällfors, CEO of the company. “Our first version was barely acceptable. It took us five years to get the product right.”

A product with conflicting requirements

Framery CEO Samu Hällfors sits at a small table inside a glass-walled office pod.

Framery CEO Samu Hällfors sits inside one of the Finnish company’s soundproof office pods, designed to create quiet, private spaces within open plan workplaces.Photo: Guillaume Roujas/Framery

Open plan offices are popular because they are flexible and use less space, perfect for modern hybrid working. Yet there are tradeoffs, such as a lack of privacy for important conversations or quiet for work which needs concentration.

“We had to build a product with contradictory requirements,” Hällfors explains. “It needed to be perfectly sealed for privacy. Even a 1-millimetre gap in a seal would ruin the soundproofing. However, for ventilation we needed a big hole which allows 25 litres of air per second to circulate. So in essence we became experts at soundproof ventilation systems.”

Framery needed to become experts at quite a few things, such as acoustics, lighting, climate control and product design. The end result is a selection of sleek, modern booths with seats, desks and connectivity. They don’t take up much space but appear larger from the inside thanks to the glass walls. The booths have an understated, Nordic minimalism quality to them.

Made in Finland

One of Finnish company Framery’s soundproof phone booth with desk and stool stands in a dark acoustic testing chamber with patterned sound-absorbing walls and strip lighting overhead.

Photo: Framery

They offer four types of booths, ranging from a compact pod for one person up to a mini meeting room for six. While offices are the most common places to find a Framery product, the booths are surprisingly versatile. Hospitals use them for doctor-patient consultations, while podcasters have discovered their acoustic qualities. They are used in airports, malls and libraries, and even in a few private homes.

“I’ve heard an opera singer uses one of our booths to practice at home. Opera singers aren’t a big market for us, but that is still pretty cool!” Hällfors laughs.

The booths are designed and manufactured in Finland and shipped around the world. Geographically, Europe is Framery’s largest market, followed by North America and Asia.

“Finland is a very good place to be for a global business like us, with 95 percent of our revenue coming from abroad,” Hällfors says. “The Tampere area has a legacy of high-tech development dating back to when Nokia had a huge R&D presence here. Today we get a lot of our talent from the universities in Tampere.”

Making an office “smart”

Three employees talk inside a glass office pod made by Finnish company Framery while colleagues collaborate in an open workplace lounge using a whiteboard mounted on the pod’s exterior wall.

Photo: Framery

Framery has plenty of experts in product development, manufacturing and supply chains, but they recently needed to find more talent when they expanded into software. They have developed smart office solutions to complement their booths, such as space management and wayfinding systems so workers can find and book offices or Framery booths.

“We are integrating more technologies into our physical products to make life easier and the experience better for the end-users,” says Hällfors. “We also have solutions for property managers to understand and optimise how their space is being used.”

It took more than four years for Framery to reach a million euros in revenue, and now they are approaching 200 million. They have developed an innovative solution for the hybrid way of working and see more success to come.

“We are investing for the future and I’m excited about the continued integration of software and physical product,” Hällfors says. “We want the Framery experience to begin as soon as a person enters a building.”

By David J. Cord, May 2026

In Oulu, northern Finland, cultural events you don’t want to miss

Programme picks you don’t want to miss:

Summer Night’s Dinner In Summer Night’s Dinner guests share local dishes at a kilometre-long table. The more adventurous foodie might try rössypottu, a dish made of pork and potatoes, recently rated the worst food in the world. August 15, 2026.

Dalia Stasevska stands in front of a wall, smiling over her shoulder at the camera.

Dalia Stasevska

Beyond the Sky brings space within reach. The project blends art, science and technology, reflecting astrophotographer Jukka-Pekka Metsävainio’s photos of distant nebulae on the ceiling of the Oulu Hall event centre. The Oulu Symphony Orchestra brings Lauri Porra’s evocative musical composition to life, conducted by Dalia Stasevska.
 November 19–21, 2026.

A man sits on a wooden bench in a sauna, throwing water from a ladle.

Olosauna is a modern village sauna.

The Art of Sauna The unique wonders of Finnish sauna culture will present themselves to guests at Tuira Beach, located by the Oulujoki river delta. Visitors can rent mobile saunas made of plywood, each fitting up to ten people at a time. Throughout the year.

Untamed Office is an urban production agency that recruits teams of young adults to bring Oulu to life. They organise clubs, street festivals, design events and exhibitions on Pikisaari, an island inhabited by artists and the creative class. Throughout the year.

Hydropower plant series This experimental opera series takes over the hydropower plants of rivers Oulu and Emä. Performances will spread to the vast area from Suomussalmi to Muhos. The series explores the harnessing of the rivers from the 19th century to this day. You can even experience shows at the bottom of the river! Throughout the year.

Ekho Collective: Layers in the Peace Machine
The immersive installation is based on the literary work called Peace Machine by late researcher Timo Honkela. The artwork sheds light on the concept of building peace and will be influenced by audience members’ peace-related memories, collected in 2025. Throughout the year.

By Kristiina Ella Markkanen, ThisisFINLAND Magazine
Photos: Lumi Ripatti, Kevin Kallombo