Life Happens in the Sauna
By Kajsa Norman
I’m seated at the top bench of a small, dimly-lit, Finnish sauna in northern Afghanistan. The heat is so intense I fear I might pass out, but instead of leaving or moving down a level, I confidently shout: “Lisää löylyä!”, (“Add more steam!”), the Finnish expression used when someone wants to increase the heat in the sauna by throwing more water onto the hot stones. It’s a phrase that captures one’s enthusiasm and eagerness for a hotter sauna experience; a phrase that suggest one is no sauna rookie.
The year is 2012 and I’m stationed with the Swedish Armed Forces at
Camp Northern Lights in Mazar-eSharif, Afghanistan. We share the base with Finnish troops and although we are a small contingent with a very small camp, there are five saunas. I have been invited to my first sauna session and am determined to outlast a certain Finnish officer who has expressed doubts about the ability of a woman to handle the same levels of heat as the men.
Wherever there is a Finnish soldier, there is sure to be a sauna, irrespective of climate. In the 1950s, Finnish peacekeepers deployed to the Sinai Peninsula built a sauna on an abandoned Egyptian military
transport platform using telephone poles that had been left behind by the Israelis. In the 1980s and 1990s, Finnish soldiers built saunas in the Golan Heights as part of the U.N. peacekeeping mission in Lebanon. In the 2000s, Finnish troops deployed with the NATO mission in Kosovo built more than 20 saunas on their base. In the 2010s, even tiny Finnish FOBs (Forward Operating Bases) located in remote areas of Northern Afghanistan featured saunas. One time, a Finnish soldier deployed to Afghanistan lost his leg during a long-range attack, yet the first comment over the radio allegedly was: “The bastards hit the sauna!”
Woman in sauna. Photo: Harri Tarvainen, Visit Finland
Naturally, it isn’t just Finnish troops who crave their saunas. In Finland, the sauna culture dates back almost 10,000 years and at the turn of the 20th century, women in rural areas would still give birth in saunas and the elderly would go there to die. For Finns, the sauna is an intrinsic part of the cycle of life. As part Finnish, I know what that means. While I wasn’t born in a sauna, I did enjoy a sauna with my Finnish grandmother not long before she passed away at the ripe age of 102. Even at the age of 100, she insisted I whip her with birch branches dipped in water – a Finnish sauna ritual thought to stimulate circulation. While it admittedly felt a bit strange to be hitting my elderly grandmother, it was hard to argue. As she had lived in excellent health for more than a century, she was obviously doing something right. And she passed her love of the sauna on to me. Indeed, many of my most memorable moments have occurred in the sauna. I’ve made new friends, laughed, cried, mourned and rejoiced in the sauna. I’ve even received a first kiss in the sauna. I’ve enjoyed saunas in countless countries across three continents, and always found the experience to be both physically and mentally cleansing and invigorating.
With over three million saunas for its five million residents, there are more saunas than cars in Finland. The Finnish parliament even has its own sauna chamber for MPs to debate in, and all Finnish embassies and consulates abroad have their own sauna. In fact, many important diplomatic breakthroughs have happened in the sauna. During his time as a top U.N. envoy, former Finnish president Martti Ahtisaari helped lay the groundwork for Namibia’s independence in
the 1970s and 1980s by developing ties with Namibian freedom fighters invited to his sauna. An achievement that would later earn him a Nobel Peace Prize (along with his efforts to resolve conflicts in Indonesia, Kosovo, and Iraq).
In the 1960s, Finland’s longestserving president, Urho Kekkonen, is said to have sweated his Soviet counterparts into submission in his sauna, maintaining Finland’s neutrality during the Cold War. Rumor has it, it was in the sauna that Kekkonen first told Soviet’s First Secretary of the Communist Party, Nikita Khrushchev, that Finland wished to join the European Free Trade Association, a predecessor to its membership in the European Union which would cement Finland’s integration with the West. According to Finnish government archives, Khrushchev was later severly criticized by Vyacheslav Molotov (a top henchman of former Soviet leader
Joseph Stalin), not so much for giving Kekkonen his blessing, but for getting naked with a foreigner and – to make matters worse– a non-communist.
In 1983, George H.W. Bush, then vice-president of the United States, jumped nude into the Baltic Sea after a sauna stint in Helsinki. His Finnish hosts had just informed him that he and President Ronald Reagan would do well to reach out to a rising political star in the Soviet Union, namely Mikhail Gorbachev.
Much of diplomacy typically revolves around fairly stiff, formal events, but it’s tough to cling to conventions when you’re sweating together, naked in a hot, dark room. Indeed, the Finnish art of sauna diplomacy has become so widely acknowledged that Finnish embassies around the world have launched what they call Diplomatic Sauna Societies. Their motto: “All people are created equal, but nowhere more so than in a sauna.”
Travel Finland. Image by Eetu Ahanen
Floating Sauna in Seattle, WA by GO´C Architecture and Design Studio. Image by Kevin Scott
People coming out from sauna in winter. Photo: Harri Tarvainen
It all started in 2008, when the Finnish Embassy in Washington D.C. began to gather the city’s movers and shakers, such as Pentagon officials and diplomats, for evenings of “sauna diplomacy” in their embassy sauna. A stark contrast to the glamourous events hosted by many foreign embassies in Washington, the Diplomatic Sauna Society quickly became hugely popular.
Sanna Kangasharju, a Finnish diplomat who used to run the sauna society in Washington D.C. tells the BBC that she would not have developed such a strong network in the US capital without the sauna: “It became a kind of underground thing and everybody wanted to have the ticket to the sauna society. Every country has an embassy in Washington - we were all fighting for the attention of the reporters, [and] people working in Congress. They want
Share Your Sauna Experience
Have you experienced a memorable moment in a sauna? In their new exhibition Sauna is Life: Sauna Culture in Finland, the American Swedish Historical Museum in Philadelphia encourages visitors from near and far to share their sauna memories.
Finnsbring sauna wherever they go, including the United States, and the tradition still thrives in certain regions of America where many Finnish people have settled,” explains Ellie Gorman at the American Swedish Historical Museum (ASHM).
Their new exhibition Sauna is Life: Sauna Culture in Finland is on view from October 18, 2024, and visitors are invited to share or create their own memories and connections with sauna. The exhibition explores the Finnish
a special experience,” she says. “When you go to a reception and you meet other people, you can say: 'Oh, I didn't recognise you with your clothes on'. You want to be a part of that club.”
The success in D.C. prompted other Finnish embassies to follow suit. Finnish diplomats now host Diplomatic Sauna Societies in Berlin, Brussels, London, and Tokyo. And naturally, as soon as Finland joined NATO, NATO headquarters installed its own sauna.
sauna tradition and includes an interactive 9-foot-long model sauna that visitors can go inside. In a wood paneled area with sauna benches, videos are projected featuring different saunas as well as the history of different aspects of sauna. In addition to Finnish sauna, the exhibition discusses related sweating practices from cultural groups around the world, including the Japanese and the Lakota in the United States, highlighting their similarities and differences to Finnish sauna.
“An important aspect of the exhibition is images and stories submitted by members of our community talking about experiences with sauna in Finland as well as in the United States, whether that's childhood memories or more recent ones. We want to include that interactivity for our visitors to share memories or stories when they come to the exhibition, and for those
Finns use saunas as a place to discuss important topics and solve problems. Titles and social hierarchies are meant to be left in the dressing room. Another unspoken rule is that “What is said in sauna stays in sauna.” The idea is to build trust and reduce tensions, making it easier to forge friendships. The sauna is where important conversation are held and crucial decisions made. Consequently, securing one’s place in the sauna is about much more than showing that one can take the heat.
By the time the Finnish officer finally leaves the sauna, I am so dizzy I can hardly see, but I remember detecting a faint smile, which I interpret as acceptance. On his way out, he throws another bucket of water onto the smoldering stones and says: “Hyvät löylyt!” (Good steam!)
visitors who haven't experienced sauna before, we want to give them some sensory aspects of the experience – sounds, smells, etc. through the interactive elements of the exhibit,” says Gorman.
There may also be opportunitues to try an outdoor sauna for visitors who’ve never before had the chance to enjoy one. Visit www.americanswedish.org to learn more.
Ice sauna at Ruka-Kuusamo.
Photo: Harri Tarvainen
Sauna by Baltic Leisure, Oxford, PA
The Radical Spirit of Marimekko
For over 70 years, Marimekko has infused art into the clothes and interiors of our everyday lives. Marimekko’s colorful fabrics and openness to experimentation brought together the textile traditions of Finland with innovative and bold designs of the contemporary art world.
Born in the Karelian region of Finland, Marimekkofounder Armi Ratia (19121979) attended the Institute of Industrial Arts in Helsinki where her creativity flourished. She was surrounded by industrial and craft artists who made things as diverse as glass, ceramics, textiles and metalwork. After graduation, Ratia married the officer cadet Viljo Ratia and returned to Karelia where she opened a weaving workshop that produced textiles for upholstery, rugs, and wall hangings.
The 1939 Russian invasion and subsequent annexation of Karelia forced Ratia and her husband to flee to Helsinki and rebuild their lives from scratch. After several years as a copywriter, Viljo bought Printex, an oil cloth manufacturer. He asked his wife to create some new printed fabrics for the business. Ratia agreed and produced several textiles for upholstery with another young designer named Maija Isola. However, Ratia soon found she wanted to produce textiles of her own, so in 1951, she founded
Marimekko. The name Marimekko comes from the combination of the common Finnish name Mari with mekko, which means dress.
Marimekko emerged from the stark reality many Finns faced after the end of the Second World War. Families were torn apart and many of the homes in the Finnish landscape were destroyed or confiscated. Ratia was torn between a longing for the past and an impulse toward the future where modernity and collaboration would unite the Finnish people. Finns
Unikko Hot Air balloon. Photo: Mikko Maliniemi
American Swedish Historical Museum
sought beauty, comfort, and a sense of place. Marimekko embodied the ideals of Finnish stoicism or sisu, which means perseverance in the face of adversity.
The first collection was introduced in the spring of 1951 in Helsinki. The first store opened in 1953 and more popped up over the ensuing months and years.
Marimekko pushed against the way the fashion industry designed couture that changed with every season. Ratia always saw herself as an outsider. She did not fit in with the designers in Paris or those who followed the trends throughout Europe. Her relationship with architecture, architects, and the wider world helped her expand Marimekko’s design philosophy to cultures like the United States, where being different was celebrated, form was freed, and patterns intersected through the interplay of a multitude of cultures.
After its international debut at the Stockholm Sales Exhibition, Marimekko was shown in Brussels where Ratia met architect Benjamin
Thompson (1918-2002) who became interested in the brand. By 1959, Thompson was working with Ratia to bring Marimekko to America by featuring it exclusively in his new lifestyle store Design Research Inc., which opened in Cambridge, Massachusetts near the intellectual center of Harvard University.
Unlike other form-fitting fashions in America during the 1950s, Marimekko’s shape and form were said to liberate the body and provide women with clothing they “didn’t need to think about”. This idea appealed to the women attending Harvard, and Marimekko quickly became known as the “Uniform for Intellectuals.” By the late 1960s, Marimekko had also become the preferred brand of the radical intelligentsia, worn by students who were protesting the economic and political changes in France in the spring of 1968, as well as by students in America, fighting for civil rights. Inspired by the riots in West Berlin, Paris, and Prague, Finnish students wearing Nurmensniemiäs’ Jokapoika (Every boy) shirts occupied the stu-
dent union building at the University of Helsinki.
The brand skyrocketed in popularity when the incoming First Lady Jackie Kennedy wore Marimekko on the cover of Sports Illustrated in 1960. She bought the dress and four others at Design Research. Suddenly Americans were getting a taste for Finnish design and fashion. Unlike other European brands, Marimekko did not follow the style trends coming out of Paris and Milan. Ratia and her designers, particularly Annika Rimala, felt that Marimekko should cater to how women feel in their clothes, rather than how the outside world sees them.
What made Marimekko radical? First and foremost, Armi Ratia. Ratia was a utopian dreamer who believed in treating her employees with respect and dignity. The company was almost entirely run by women. Marimekko provided amenities and benefits for its employees including a day spa, sauna, childcare facilities, coffee and refreshments throughout the day. Artists owned their work and were included
Finnish entrepreneur and textile designer Armi Ratia in 1970. Photo: Markku Lepolan, JOKA Journalistic Photo Archive, Markku Lepolan’s collection, Finnish Heritage Agency.
Photo: Tony Vaccaro
in the decision-making process for how their designs were used. Ratia’s utopian ideals were woven into the very fabric that pieced together each Marimekko ready-to-wear outfit as the artist’s name remained in the selvage and on some dress tags.
Working with Finnish architect Aarno Ruusuvuori (1925-1992), Ratia even devised a utopian town called Marikylä. Here, Ratia and her architects developed the Marihouse, based on the principles she applied to Marimekko clothing. Along with the house, they also designed what they called the Marisauna, a traditional Finnish sauna decorated with Marimekko textiles. The house and the sauna were intended to be living spaces for Marimekko employees.
The center of Marikylä was meant to house one of many Marimekko factories and office spaces.
Marimekko’s foray into architecture followed the tradition of Swedish design and its philosophy of vackrare vardagsvara (more beautiful things for everyday life) which came out of the Svenska Slöjdföreningen (Swedish Society of Crafts and Design) beginning in the 1910s. In the end, Marikylä town was never completed. Resistance from the political left, confusion over town-planning, and the financial crisis of 1967 all contributed to its failure with only one Marihouse built. Ratia shifted her focus to Marimekko’s textiles, and eventually home goods.
As the world changed, so did Marimekko. Marimekko became a
brand for artists, designers, and even chefs. Georgia O’Keefe had several Marimekko dresses as did Julia Child, who wore Marimekko aprons supplied by Design Research. Child’s set was also decorated with Marimekko home goods.
Ratia’s son, Ristomatti Ratia, founded Décembre Oy to showcase Marimekko lifestyle products for the home. It eventually became Marimekko New York which specialized in producing home goods. One of the lasting legacies of their collections was the duvet cover and sheet sets they produced for the American market. Later, they developed a whole range of products including towels, wallpaper, ceramics, and stationary. Many of these products are still emblazoned with a
Maija Isola, designer of Marimekko´s famous Unikko pattern. Photos: Design Museum & Marimekko.
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