What To Explore When In The Creative Heart of Helsinki’s Design District?

On a crisp, blue morning, I arrived at Helsinki Central Station with my bright-eyed guide, Maddalena Benedetti. I looked up in awe at the Lantern Carriers—or Lyhdynkantajat as the locals refer to them—four statues of chiselled men, each holding a flaming lantern, flanking the clock tower. As they silently welcomed thousands of passengers into the city, I couldn’t help but wonder why this station isn’t more famous worldwide.

Maddalena flashed a knowing smile, almost as if reading my mind, as we made our way into the city, and said, “Well, Finns are quite humble; they don’t like to show off.”

Minimalism Meets Functionality

Our journey to the Helsinki Design District gave me a deeper understanding of her words. Surrounded by a melange of curated Finnish crafts—fashion studios, art galleries, and antique shops spilling out from every corner—I realised that, much like the country itself, Finnish arts and crafts are highly underrated.

Amid this burst of creativity and colour, a surprising thread emerged: clean, simple designs driven by a love for functionality and inspired by everyday objects. “Finns are a no-nonsense people who love when things and life just simply go with the flow,” Maddalena explained. Looking around, I saw her words come to life. The Finnish approach to life—minimalist yet functional—was reflected not only in the crafts but also in the very streets of Helsinki. From the calm, efficient flow of people to the clean lines of the buildings, everything seemed designed for ease and simplicity.

Since World War II, crafts have played a key role in rebuilding the nation’s identity, evolving deliberately over the years. Perhaps creating something by hand offered the people a notion of permanence in the war’s aftermath, letting them hold on to something that the world couldn’t take away. A chance to not just rebuild their homes, but also their souls. Officially, the Design District spans the neighbourhoods of Punavuori, Kaartinkaupunki, Kamppi, and Ullanlinna. But to me, it felt like stepping into a different world—a world where art and craft weren’t just admired; they were lived.

A Perfect Finnish

My first stop was a pilgrimage to the twin temples of Finnish design: Iittala and Arabia. Iittala is home to the iconic Alvar Aalto vase, created by renowned Finnish designer Alvar Aalto. The design was created by blowing glass and letting it swell naturally on the sides, creating a free-flowing wave that was inspired by the dress of an indigenous Sámi woman. There were other designs too, many of which were inspired by Finland’s natural landscapes. 

I ran my hands over a vase, wondering how something so simple could still be in style hundreds of years later. Crafted from high-quality, crystal-clear glass, with a smooth and luminous finish, it embodied understated elegance. Maddalena explained that every ‘self-respecting’ Finn, from her great-grandmother’s time right up until today, would have a version of the Alvar Aalto vase. Her words echoed the essence of Finnish craft—timeless, yet evolving.

Next, we made our way to marvel at the Arabia outlet, Finland’s 130-year-old ceramics institution. Here, within its historic walls, I discovered a unique creative arrangement. Instead of traditional employees, Arabia hosts some of Finland’s most talented ceramic artists as residents. It’s a fascinating exchange: the artists are given free rein to explore their craft, while Arabia provides studio space and a brand association with the arts. My eyes instantly fell on the playful “Paratiisi” pattern on an Arabia plate—with its striking blue and yellow fruit design—that is a prominent feature on any Finnish table at festivals.

Form Meets Function

After wandering through enough studios and peering into countless window displays, my fingers began to itch to craft something of my own. That is the joy of the Design District: it allows you to do exactly that. You can dive into the arts and blend with the hundreds of craftsmen and women bustling around the district. 

So, I headed to Colour Box, a cosy studio where the scent of clay lingered in the air. My task: create a ceramic vase and meditate. Mirva Keski-Vähälä, the founder of Colour Box and an art therapy instructor, believes that “craft is a way to have meaningful encounters with oneself.”

True to her philosophy, we began the course by meditating on the moments that bring joy to our lives and harnessing that energy into kneading, shaping, and coaxing the clay into a vase. I found a childlike joy in the simple act of creation. My finished piece? Let’s just say it was more abstract than representational. But the experience—the feel of the cool, damp clay, the satisfaction of shaping something with my hands—was priceless.

Designing Women

Next, I stepped into the world of jewellery making at Paja Design. Paja offers crash courses in silversmithing and leatherworking techniques. The course is led by Elli and Ann, a jewellery-designer couple who believe that “crafting shouldn’t be a lonely process. It’s an activity that allows friends, families, and even strangers to bond for a few hours.” Under their guidance, I learned to manipulate silver wire and cut vegetable-tanned leather, crafting my own unique pendant. It was a test of patience and dexterity, but the result—a slightly imperfect but completely satisfying piece of jewellery.

My last stop as a craftswoman was at PIHKA to fashion myself a sustainable handbag. I was greeted by the vivacious Sofia Salmi, the CEO, who introduced me to the concept of ‘One Bag is Enough’—a notion that made me inwardly recoil as I thought of the five handbags I’d already bought on this trip. PIHKA’s bags are made with responsibly sourced high-quality leather, designed to last a lifetime. Armed with a pair of scissors, hammers, carpet knives, and rolls of leather, I began using cardboard to make the outline, cut the leather, sew it from the bottom up, and strap on the buckles. And no, it wasn’t as simple as it sounds. But when I slung my little mini bag on my shoulder, I knew it was packed with memories—and a fresh confidence in my crafting abilities.

Finnish State Of Mind

As the sun began to make its descent, we made our way past heaps of lingonberries, cranberries, pears, plums, and blushing red apples, heaped together in an artistic fashion not unlike the craft displays in the windows around. I realised the design DNA runs deep around here. This isn’t just a location on a map; it’s a ‘state of mind,’ a philosophy, as the Design District’s posters proudly proclaim.

I realised that design isn’t just about the finished product—it’s about the thoughtfulness, the simplicity, and the story woven into each piece. I may not have left with a perfect vase or pendant, but I left with a deeper understanding of what it truly means to craft a life.

Related: Say Hello To The Pohjola Route, The Birthplace Of Finland

Note:
The information in this article is accurate as of the date of publication.

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