Suvi Saloniemi. Photo Osma Harvilahti.
Two of my friends are in the inner court of a hotel, trying to climb up a drainpipe into a first-floor room. They’ve just been turned away from the reception, where they were confidently trying to pass themselves off as guests. Their mission: after-party.
Staying at the hotel are two British musicians, who are in Helsinki for the second time. The after-party is also the second of its kind. Right after their first visit they asked for another booking into the city that had made a great first impression. They fell in love with Helsinki, a city that had welcomed them more warmly than any other city in ages. I and my friends befriended the Brits instantly, and we keep in touch regularly.
Even the line-up of only Flow Festival shows that Helsinki will receive a stunning group of artist guests this year. You could easily say that over the past three years Helsinki has played host to the absolute best of the best of international DJs.
I claim that Helsinki is one of the best places to play in the world. Helsinkians are at the same time the best audience and the best hosts. But why? We aren’t as suave, bold and numerous as many Central European audiences.
In April, I followed weather reports religiously. We were in the middle of an ash catastrophy. One of my current DJ duo favorites, the unbelievably cool Holy Ghost! from New York, was supposed to play in Helsinki. As their gig got cancelled, I suddenly thought of a horrible future scenario: what if international acts were never again able to fly into Helsinki?
In one night, the gig future of our city, which had enjoyed a multitude of international music, was endangered. Would we regress back into the periphery that we were just ten year ago, when people had to go to Stockholm just to see bands?
The ash catastrophy reminded me of how troubled our location is on the European gig map. At the same time I remembered why Helsinkians are the best audience there is. We’re spontaneous, real and truly pumped up for every foreign visitor that wants to travel all the way here and freeze their ass off. For an artist performing in a different country or different tavern for a different audience every night, that Finnish geezer who is honestly enthused is like a warm and fuzzy savior, a moment of calm in the ever-changing tour life.
But where was I during this drainpipe episode? Of course already in the hotel room, hiding in the hallway closet, waiting for the hotel worker inspecting the room to have the decency to finally get out, so we can get the party started again. †
Suvi Saloniemi
The author is an amanuensis in Helsinki Kunsthalle and a DJ.
Light snow 
