Finnish Folklore and Legends: How Art Helped Shape Finnish Identity

Art

The Defense of the Sampo, Mistress of the North, Louhi attacking Väinämöinen in the form of a giant eagle with her troops on her back, Akseli Gallen-Kallela, 1886, tempera on canvas, 122 x 125 cm, Turku Art Museum. Wikimedia Commons

To understand Finnish art and the development of the Finnish style, one must first understand the history of Finland, particularly its battle for independence. Finland was first annexed by Sweden from the 12th century until 1809, before being lost to Russia and becoming an Autonomous Grand Duchy of the Russian empire. This lasted until 1917, when the Bolsheviks took over Russia and Finland's independence was recognized on 4 January 1918.

As a very young independent country, Finland struggled for long to assert itself on the international scene. However, this does not mean that Finnish people did not fight back against Swedish and Russian oppression, on the contrary. One obvious element which made Finland so vulnerable to oppression was its lack of national identity. Under Swedish reign, Swedish was the language used in all administrative affairs, excluding Finnish people from politics and administration.

Moreover, Finland was a widely agricultural country; most of its population were farmers living in secluded areas, making it harder to develop a unified national feeling. But one man came to the rescue: Elias Lönrot. A doctor and philosopher, he began to collect folk tales from rural populations in 1827. This was significant because all these tales used to be transmitted orally from one generation to another, but Lönrot put them down into writing, effectively creating the first records of the Finnish language.

These folklore stories ended up forming the Kalevala. A compilation of epic poems and Finnish mythology, it retells the story of the creation of the earth, plants, creatures, and the sky, and often depicts the protagonists singing, a little wink at the originally oral transmissions of these myths. Following epic heroes and their dangerous adventures, the Kalevala simply makes you want to curl up by the fire and read it from beginning to end with some hot cocoa.

Kullervo Herding his Wild Flocks, 1917, watercolor, paper, 70 × 68 cm, Finnish National Gallery (online collection)

But the Kalevala’s significance went beyond being an important work of literature. It inspired artists to create illustrations for the stories in the hope of promoting Finnish culture and identity to an international public. There is one man in particular who undertook that task: Akseli Gallen Kallela. Gallen Kallela developed a desire to illustrate the Kalevala early on in his career, and finally started to collect materials for the project in 1890, during his honeymoon in East Karelia. The aim of Gallen Kallela was, of course, to promote Finnish art and culture, but also to give the Kalevala back to the people and create a sense of community. Aware that the very existence of the Kalevala was thanks to ordinary Finnish communities, he wanted to avoid its seclusion to the educated class. To do so, he worked on including symbols and visual elements that were understood by all. This is why most Kalevala illustrations depict humans and Gods wearing traditional Finnish clothing, placing them in the forest or traditional Finnish houses. This was logical for folklore paintings, but it also made the illustrations relatable to the people.

Portrait of the 19-year-old Akseli Gallen Kallela, Helsinki, 1884, 91x58mm, Gallen-Kallela museum, Espoo. Wikimedia Commons

Traditional Finnish Art thus found its roots in the need to develop a Finnish identity and detach the country from the control historically exerted by either Sweden or Russia. The illustrated Kalevala is a particularly important work because of its major role in developing Finnish Art. A depiction of folklore tales and legends made by and for the people, it is a powerful series that still today inspires Finnish culture.

The theft of the Sampo, 1905, oil on canvas, 307,5 × 158 cm, Finnish National Gallery (online collection)


Previous
Previous

Merry Christmas!

Next
Next

Practicing without your instrument? The benefits of mental practice