Korpilahti: Path of Sin

Korpilahti is a community about 30 kilometres south from Jyväskylä. Since 2009 it has been officially part of the city of Jyväskylä, but I somehow feel that there haven't been too many changes taking place here - at least not to a visitor's eye. Quite a few smaller communities in Finland have joined forces with their bigger neighbours in the past few years to save money in administration etc. Korpilahti's history as an independent community goes back to 1867 and this mill by Korpijoki river is almost as old, dating to 1874. I reach the frozen shore of the narrow river but at this time of the year I can't see or hear water flowing beneath the ice and snow.

The interesting looking wooden structure that is hanging on the outer wall surely isn't just a decoration. After making my way through the snow to the wall and a piece of paper I get an idea of what it is, based on the black and white photo: originally this piece was part of a horizontal wooden structure to which a horse was tied. The horse walked round a pole, rotating this large wooden wheel, which in turn must have kept another piece of machinery in motion. Unfortunately there are no further details available.

The other buildings at the Old Mill (Vanha mylly) are not painted red but have become grey over the years. This is truly the old style.

There is a narrow path, made by previous walkers, up from the mill, following the river. No, I can't make myself call it a river... Rather, it is a narrow brook. I reach the pedestrian bridge and turn back just before the highway. This must be a gorgeous place in the spring!

I pass the Old Mill area and follow the footpath towards the centre of Korpilahti, reaching Martinpolku (Martti's Path) which is clearly the main street here. The street is named after Martti Korpilahti who was not only born with the name of the community itself but gained fame in Central Finland as a poet and a music man, besides being a teacher in Jyväskylä. Martti Korpilahti was proud to be born in the area and his lyrics depict his love of Central Finland. Besides Martinpolku, Mr Korpilahti has had another path named after him in the city of Jyväskylä by lake Tuomiojärvi.

There are both old and new buildings along Martinpolku. As usual, I feel more at home with the wooden ones and am glad that there are quite a few of them left, and some seem to have been or are being renovated as well.

Synninpolku literally means a Path of Sin. What on earth is this? The sign points down but actually the Path of Sin starts a bit lower and leads to the very top of the hill, to the church. Very probably the path gained its name because of the fairly steep hill - perhaps the walkers felt the sweat on their foreheads and had time to think about all their wrongdoings when climbing to the top, to ask for forgiveness in the church. Right next to the path, the red building, dating to 1777,  houses the local museum which is only open in summertime. The building first first served as a belfry but it became a granary later.

I feel compelled to follow the Path of Sin. It isn't Sunday today so I am sure the church doors will be closed but at least I'll get the feel of the path. On the piece of paper that is taped on the litter bin it modestly says "a walking route to the church hill" instead. Come on, be proud! Not every village has a Path of Sin!

The partly snow-covered granite statue by the Path of Sin pays homage to Martti Korpilahti, who else! I make my own trail in the snow to walk to it and round it and wonder what the story behind it is. I have no idea what Mr Korpilahti looked like so can't say if the statue has his profile or not. The poet's own words are engraved in the stone: En kotiseudulleni tiedä vertaa (There is no place like my home region).

Step by step I get closer to the top of the hill. I can imagine that on a hot summer's day it would be easy to feel the burden of your sins walking up there, especially the sin of laziness, if you're not too fit. The wooden belfry meets me first; its architectural style is somewhat different, a bit more decorative, than that of the church behind it. Also, the paint is not the same colour. 

Korpilahti's lutheran church is the third church here; the first was built in 1693 and this last one, designed by architect Charles Bassi, dates to 1827. I try the door but since there is no service today, the door remains closed. One of the architects who have been involved in the restoration work of this church over the years was Alvar Aalto, back in 1928.

The footpath on the top of the church hill doesn't go a full circle so I need to retrace my steps back towards the Path of Sin. What a great view this hill offers! If only it were a sunny day, it would be even greater - and I can't even imagine how wonderful it must look like when the lake Päijänne glitters down below in the summer. However, I get a sinful thought when walking down the Path of Sin. I wish I had a sled! It would be great to sled down the hill, no matter how much I enjoy walking.

I pass the old museum building and continue along the Path of Sin down towards the harbour. The rock fence is covered in snow and ice, with little works of Nature's art on the rocks.

There are also traces of human hand. A date from 1849 has been carved in stone, if I read it right.

Across the road, there is a quiet area with lots of boats having a rest under tarpaulins until the spring arrives again. The red brick building next to me these days houses Korpilahti's theatre; originally, there was a steam generator for the saw mill.

And before the theatre moved to its current location, it was located in another red brick building at the harbour area, close to Satamakapteeni café-restaurant which is open all year round. Part of the text painted on the red brick building has been erased - the word 'theatre'-  so it now spells Korpilahden kesä (Korpilahti's summer) instead. Today the building is home to an art gallery and an arts & crafts shop: Höyrygalleria and Emalipuu. 

The art gallery upstairs now displays paintings by Marja Hirvinen in her exhibition on enchanting landscapes, Maisemien lumous. I can imagine that quite a few of them have been inspired right here, enjoying the atmosphere of Korpilahti and lake Päijänne. It is easy to forget about the snow when you look at her work.

The gallery itself is charming as well. My eyes are drawn to the bright red chairs that keep an eye on the gallery visitors like two old and alert ladies.

I return back outside and breath in the vast landscape that opens before my eyes, with black dots moving rhythmically on the ice, pairs of skis sliding forward. Korpilahti and lake Päijänne - what a great combination.

Jyväskylä: Alvar Aalto in C major

The snow that covers the grounds of the main campus of University of Jyväskylä is crispy in the afternoon sunshine. I'm about to walk straight through the campus but stop to look at the snow sculptures between the apple trees of Aallonpuisto (Aalto's Park) and the university main building. I suppose the creations have been made by schoolchildren, not students at the university...

The university main building by architect Alvar Aalto is known simply as "C" among both staff and students. That's all it says in the signs around the campus as well but originally, the C stands for Capitolium. I doubt many people have heard that.

Alright, I'll step in and do a little exploring. The lobby houses a café the name of which reminds you of the architect: Aallokko (waves; Aalto = a wave) but it was originally called Belvedere, probably because of the huge glass windows. The open cloakroom area is surrounded by a stylish curvy counter that clearly spells Aalto.

The side staircases from the lobby lead to the top part of the Festivity hall. The steps are white marble and the beautiful polished wood next to the black handrail also catches the eye.

The black handrail seems to continue forever, making a full turn right up to the door of C2, the top half of the Festivity hall. I've never really paid attention to these handrails before. It is so easy to not even notice that you're taking hold of something, walking forward and getting support from it. You just let go. You may have been holding something very beautiful in your hand.

I walk down the stairs and choose another entrance to the Festivity hall: the main one right in the middle of the lobby. As if by a miracle, the doors are open although there is no lecture or event going on! A group of architects seems to be visiting the building and thanks to them, I also get to see the hall open and lit up. This is quite an entrance.

Entering the lower part of the Festivity hall, C1, you'll see a curvier black handrail than the one that takes you to C2. Nice.

I walk up the stairs to get a good view of the whole Festivity hall. The hall's two parts C1 and C2 can together seat more than 700 people. I think that I've usually only been here in the evening or when it is dark and you don't even realize that there are windows up in the ceiling.

Entrance examinations, course exams, rock bands, symphony orchestras, lectures, official ceremonies. This hall has seen it all. It is a rare thing to see this space so empty.

And when you leave the Festivity hall, the handrail will guide you safely back to the lobby, after a concert, a lecture... Like a shepherd's rod.

To the right of the festivity hall the lobby reaches much higher and reveals a different combination of red bricks, skylights, structures and white surfaces.

 

The staircase leading upstairs also has beautiful handrails but these are wooden ones, in different shapes. A round handrail for a round column.

On the second floor the handrail is square. Aalto has played with shapes. I wonder if there are triangular ones somewhere? Again, I've never before noticed these details although I've spent hours and hours in this building!

The door to the lecture hall C4 is also invitingly open. The afternoon sunlight does its magic and paints another set of windows on the red brick wall.

This may be world famous architecture but I can assure you, the folding seats are not exactly comfortable to sit on for an hour or two.

The Aalto-designed chairs reserved for the teachers at the front seem much more comfortable.

 

I go back downstairs, slip into the corridor that takes me to the side wing of C building. This is where the Aalto library, or Aalto Reading Room is. The library has given in to today's technology; the reading tables are equipped with computers. Do students and researchers still come here to read books or do they focus on the computer screen? At least there is room for both.

Evening of the Day of Light

A regular cold February day in Jyväskylä. I walk to Ruusupuisto park, home of the town's two Alvar Aalto-designed museums, in the hope of catching the last rays of sunshine. A newspaper story has mentioned that one of the museums has a lighting installation but of course it's still too light to see that; the terrace of Museum of Central Finland is... Well, just a terrace.

However, the sunlight is already fading fast and the blue moment is approaching. The walls of the Museum of Central Finland are already coming to light.

The lamps outside the museum are also waking from their snow-covered slumber.  At first their light is reddish but soon calms down to fit the mood of the museums and becomes white light. I'm beginning to feel the cold and decide to go indoors to warm up.

I enter the Alvar Aalto museum next door. The museum has free entrance on Fridays, but a notice on the wall announces that today is a special day: architect Alvar Aalto's birthday (born Feb 3, 1898) so the museum is offering all visitors a free cup of coffee and mint chocolate cake at Café Alvar downstairs. My lucky day! After warming up with this treat, I'm ready to step upstairs to see the exhibition.

There is a group with tour guide visiting the Aalto architecture section (which I've seen before anyway) so I'm quite happy to explore photographer Jouni Kaipia's exhibition Tiloja ja tilanteita (Spaces and situations) which naturally focuses on architecture, but not only that: also people, and in some cases, animals, play their important part in the lovely photos. There's no need to be an architecture enthusiast to enjoy this exhibition. Kaipia's photos make you feel good, and the hanging is far from boring!

You can use the exhibition space very cleverly if you think about it at the time of the hanging...

OK, time to step out into the -20°C something temperature. But what is this museum piece of a bus doing here? It must belong to the group of Scandinavians who are right now touring the Alvar Aalto museum. Oh, the good old days? This bus has character compared to its modern cousins.

However, I wonder what kind of heating there is... Hope the travellers aren't freezing. At least some of them seem to have prepared for the worst, or maybe they just like to go skiing every now and then - there are two pairs of cross country skis tied to the back of the bus. Apparently this is where the skis used to be transported!

The night has fallen and it is finally possible to see the lighting installation by Annukka Larsen, designed in the honour of Museum of Central Finland which is celebrating its 80 years of existence, and of course architect Alvar Aalto who designed the building. However, it is funny that the lighting installation is temporary and lasts only few days. I don't remember how it looks normally (don't often walk here in the evenings) but am sure these lights make a great difference to it. So, it is kind of sad that these lights will soon be turned off.

I climb back up the wooden steps to the terrace of the museum to look down at Alvar Aalto museum.

The lights and the evening atmosphere make this so different from what it was like a bit more than an hour ago. It pays to see the same place at different times of the day.

The lighting installation seems to include also the tall pine trees next to the museum building. I doubt if the side entrance to the museum with its wooden doors - not in regular use for the public these days - is normally lighted in the evenings.

I cross the Keskussairaalantie street to the University of Jyväskylä campus area. Although the weekend has begun, there are still some people about, but mostly indoors. 

This Aallonpuisto park area is appropriately named after the architect Alvar Aalto; the buildings around it were designed by him. The row of windows at the top of a building glows through the darkness, on the other side of the sports ground. That's a sports hall named U2, with no reference to the band; each of the university campus buildings happens to have a a short name and 'U' most probably refers to 'Urheilu' which means sports.

The student cafeteria Lozzi offers no meals at this time of the night but there is still something going on there. The wooden ceiling of Lozzi is really beautiful and you can best see it with the lights on.

The neighbour building Lyhty is mostly used for meetings. Lyhty stands for lantern so it is quite natural there should be lights on to show it at its best, to give the large windows a chance to shine.

February 3 is a Day of Light in Finland. Having done a lot of work for lighting installations, Jyväskylä has named itself a City of Light. However, I wonder how many people will dare to go for a guided walk to explore the lighting installations... The temperature is really freezing and I again feel like getting back inside. Time to head for home.

Thanks to the moon for keeping me company. Holding the camera, my frostbitten fingers are telling me that I have seen enough lights for this Day of Light...