I’m grateful to my parents for giving me a basis for a life as an aesthete. My earliest childhood memory is from Barcelona, where we lived in the early 1970s. I’m sitting on the front seat of our white Mercedes-Benz, loading cassettes into the car’s Blaupunkt player, choosing from Burt Bacharach, Astrud Gilberto, Simon & Garfunkel and Stevie Wonder. Another thing that I remember about those years is the diverse and international circle of friends that my parents had. We never listened to Finnish schlager.

As I look back on my life decades later, the things I have succeeded in best have always had to do with understanding the meaning of style in one form or another – and also, of course, with good luck. It was only when I was writing this that I remembered that I wrote my MA thesis on style in art. Of course, hard work and initiative are clearly necessary values, but I believe that in the end it’s matters of style and nuance that make a difference.

I have tried to stick to my own style and international networks. Thanks to my parents for those values.