I am a curious polymath. As a researcher of cultural studies, an educationalist and a sociologist I have studied Finnish musical culture from several vantage points using different methods. Not committing to any one approach has been a great resource for me. When someone inquires about my profession, I do not know if I should say I am a researcher, non-fiction writer, documentarist, screenwriter, director, organiser, managing director or a populariser of science. Last Christmas I received a card which read “culture dude”. All my work is based on my interest in human beings as cultural creatures and on my curiosity of human behaviour and our interaction with the environment—past, present and future.

My work is all about producing insightful stories. As far back as the 1990s while working for Finnish musical life and music industry in my capacity as the Executive Director of the Finnish Music Information Centre my job was to create stories. We fostered the growth of Finnish musical exports, at the core of which I believe are stories told face-to-face. We were able to influence key figures and the media. During my ten-year tenure I developed into quite the international operator.

In those days the listlessness and resistance to change displayed by the Finns often left me feeling aghast. A particular oddity appeared to be an energetic and open person like myself who would confidently state his opinions even on topics outside his field of expertise. A dim silence descended all around me. I feel that the diversity inherent in studying humanities provides wonderful tools to evaluate nearly everything.

While working for three years as a Cultural Counselor at the Finnish embassy in Washington D.C.—my spheres of responsibility being culture and education—the American cultural institutions wasted no time in taking advantage of my ample professional experience. That which was perceived as a threat in Finland was seen as a resource across the Atlantic. In my homeland I had been confronted with a need to defend the legitimacy of my existence. This conflict as well as a search for balance is something I have struggled with my entire career.

I have a peculiar obsession: even my work that deals with the past should always in some way serve the future. That is why I have amassed vast archives, that is why I write books, script and direct documentaries, organise exhibitions as well as create and produce large cultural projects—I give contemporary interpretations on matters I believe will be of interest later on. My work is made up of tell-tale signs of our own time. I have a fervent need to pass down our everyday cultural legacy to future generations.