I am an architect and photographic artist, based in Helsinki, Finland.

Here is the dilemma: as an architect, like any old hound, you have this in-built compulsion to leave your yellow marks on the pristine white snow, to comment marks that the likes of you have left before – until you one day realise there’s no more white snow…

Do we really need to build this much? Well, my response has been to try and deal with what is already there. I have designed alterations of old buildings, interiors within existing boundaries, exhibitions, furniture. Many of these interventions are meant to be temporary and eventually to fade away. It’s all small in size and scale; the experience of intimacy is my aim.

Every so often (or quite frequently), I feel the urge to get out to the world from the confines of the drafting board. Thus, on the side of the practice, I have been teaching in a number of architecture schools, in several countries.

I keep traveling the world, pondering what it is to dwell on this globe.

As a photographic artist, I can’t keep my architect’s background from reflecting on my work. However, I tend to turn my camera towards fellow humans and the spatial situations they define, rather than towards buildings alone. I’m in constant search for archetypal phenomena and often gravitate to archaic habitats that are built and lived-in by a long chain of generations but are now in peril of vanishing at an accelerating pace. I document what I see but I am not a photojournalist. Rather, my photographs and exhibitions are essays, meditations on the endless variety of conjunctions of human beings and their surroundings. Or are they just another yellow mark on the snow?