A short trip to Helsinki and a few free hours led me to the National Museum of Finland – just before it closed for renovation. What started as a spontaneous visit turned into a walk through thousands of years of Finnish history, full of unexpected moments and a bit of confusion along the way.

National Museum of Finland, Helsinki | Suomen kansallismuseo, Helsinki | フィンランド国立博物館, ヘルシンキ | 芬兰国家博物馆, 赫尔辛基 | 핀란드 국립 박물관, 헬싱키 | Museo Nacional de Finlandia, Helsinki | Musée national de Finlande, Helsinki | Nationalmuseum Finnlands, Helsinki | Muzeum Narodowe Finlandii, Helsinki

This is a place you won’t be seeing anytime soon – the museum is closed until further notice. I ended up there quite by chance, during a brief trip to Helsinki. We took the ferry from Tallinn for a one-day visit. After a guided tour of the city, we had a late lunch, and then – with several hours to spare before the evening ferry – we were free to do as we pleased. I hadn’t planned anything that morning, but in a completely spontaneous moment, I decided to grab a quick bite and head off into the city on my own. I chose to visit the National Museum of Finland

At First Sight

I knew I had no more than two and a half hours before the museum closed – rather early, considering it was a Sunday. Fortunately, it was just a 15-minute walk from where we’d had lunch. When I reached the building, I was slightly taken aback – it looked more like a church. But that didn’t really surprise me; across Europe, I’ve seen plenty of disused churches repurposed for entirely different uses. Inside, however, it didn’t resemble a place of worship at all – it felt more like a castle or a palace. For a moment, I thought I might have gone to the wrong place, but I hadn’t. Later, back at home, I read that it is indeed a National Romantic–style building, inspired by medieval Finnish castles.

I reached the ticket desk fairly quickly, but I didn’t quite understand what the guy at reception was saying. He spoke from his own perspective, without seeming to realise he might be talking to a foreigner unfamiliar with Finnish history. So I headed downstairs to start from the beginning, but ended up in an empty space – the rooms looked more suited to meetings or workshops than any actual exhibition. They were deserted, with just tables and chairs, as if they hadn’t been used in ages. There were no signs, no one to ask, no indication of where to go. For a good ten or fifteen minutes, I was literally wandering in circles.

Eventually, I stumbled upon an exhibition – but I quickly realised it had nothing to do with the museum’s main collection. As I later found out online, it was a temporary exhibition titled Kesytön taide (Untamed Art), on display from May to September 2023. It featured over 280 works by 44 artists from Finland, Europe and Brazil. The exhibition focused on outsider art – created by artists working beyond the formal gallery system, often without any academic training. The works were incredibly diverse, ranging from drawings and paintings to collages and installations.

A few works from the Kesytön taide exhibition

It was only later that I managed to reach the main floors of the museum. The exhibitions guided visitors through the different eras of Finnish history – seemingly from the very earliest times right up to the present day. I explored them in the wrong order. You moved from floor to floor, from module to module. Each section focused on a different period, but since I wasn’t familiar with Finnish history, I quickly lost track. The entrances to the various modules had signs in either Finnish or English – but written in such a way that, without any prior context, it was hard to tell from what to begin.

I started with prehistory – old swords, tools, coins. Nearby were rooms featuring an exhibition of light and sound: the sounds of an ancient forest untouched by human hands. There was old jewellery too, with the option to virtually try it on. It was all quite well thought out, though designed less to showcase individual objects and more to guide visitors through different aspects of history. Then I got lost again. I ended up in the modern section – photographs of prime ministers, political events from the 20th century. And finally I came across the medieval part. That left the strongest impression: beautiful icons, reconstructed interiors, castle-like halls, classical-style paintings. They looked as if they had been transplanted directly from other historical sites. At first sight, I really felt the lack of context. Still, after that initial confusion, I genuinely liked the museum and its concept. And – as always – I took plenty of photos.

Inside the Museum

The building of the National Museum of Finland is one of the most distinctive landmarks in Helsinki – not just because of its significance, but also its appearance. As I mentioned earlier, from the outside it resembles a church or a castle – and that’s no coincidence. It was designed at the turn of the 20th century by three architects: Herman Gesellius, Armas Lindgren and Eliel Saarinen. Construction began in 1905, and the museum opened its doors in 1916. The building is an example of National Romanticism – a style inspired by Finnish landscapes, folklore, and medieval architecture. Its tall tower, granite façade and heavy portals were all meant to symbolise permanence and national identity.

The building of the National Museum of Finland as you approach it.

The permanent exhibition was divided into three main sections.

The first – Prehistory – presented life in these lands from the Stone Age through to the Viking era. Tools, ornaments, everyday objects – many of them surprisingly precise in their craftsmanship. Everything was displayed in a calm, contemplative atmosphere.

A few photos from the prehistoric section – it’s just a pity I couldn’t capture the sounds of the ancient forest.

The first people arrived in what is now Finland around 8800 BCE, shortly after the glaciers retreated. These were hunter-gatherer communities who followed migrating animals and lived in tune with the seasons. Over time, they learned to farm the land and raise animals. Settlements developed, along with local communities, rituals, and trade with neighbouring regions. The Bronze Age (c. 1500–500 BCE) and Iron Age (from around 500 BCE) brought technological advancements, new types of weapons and tools, and the first signs of social structure. Local elites began to emerge, burial sites were furnished with valuable goods, and there was contact with Nordic and Baltic cultures. Although a Finnish state did not yet exist, a distinct cultural identity was beginning to take shape among the people living in this region.

The second section focused on the Middle Ages and the early modern period. It featured religious artefacts, examples of craftsmanship, and reconstructions of interiors and everyday life from the time when Finland was part of Sweden, and later, Russia. The exhibition had a more theatrical, scenographic feel, with more open space and atmosphere.

Photos from the museum’s second section. The last one shows The Attack – a portrait of a young maiden symbolising Finland, being attacked by the Russian double-headed eagle. The painting got to the symbol of Finnish resistance against Russification.

In the 11th century, the Christianisation of Finland began. Soon after, the country came under Swedish rule and for over six centuries remained part of the Swedish Kingdom. A new administration was introduced, along with Swedish as the official language, a legal system, and feudal structures. Parishes, schools, monasteries and towns began to emerge. In the 18th century, Finland repeatedly became a battleground in the wars between Sweden and Russia. In 1809, after Sweden’s defeat, Finland was incorporated into the Russian Empire as the Grand Duchy of Finland, retaining its autonomy, constitution, currency and official language. During the reigns of Tsars Alexander II and III, Finland’s autonomy was largely respected, and gradual liberal reforms took place. However, after their deaths – when less sympathetic rulers came to power – oppression from the Russian authorities intensified, as a result of increasingly aggressive Russification policies. The 19th century marked a period of national awakening – Finnish literature, art, journalism and social movements flourished. Finnish identity grew stronger, despite growing Russification pressures towards the end of the century.

The third section covered modern history – from independence through the 20th century to the present day. There were relatively fewer physical exhibits; this part was the most multimedia-driven, with screens, recordings and photographs. I also had the impression that this was where the largest number of visitors had gathered.

After the fall of the Russian Empire in 1917, Finland declared its independence. In 1918, a civil war broke out between the Reds (socialists) and the Whites (conservative government forces), ending in victory for the latter. Following the war, the country was transformed into a parliamentary republic. During the Second World War, Finland fought two wars against the Soviet Union – the Winter War (1939–40) and the Continuation War (1941–44) – as well as a brief conflict with Germany. Despite territorial losses, Finland managed to preserve its independence and democratic system. After the war, the country adopted a policy of neutrality and focused on developing its economy, industry and education. In 1995, Finland joined the European Union, and in 2023, it became a member of NATO. Today, it is regarded as one of the best-governed countries in the world, with high standards in education, healthcare and public trust.

Not Open Till 2027

The National Museum of Finland was closed in October 2023, shortly after my visit. Even though the museum already felt modern at the time – with interactive displays, multimedia features and excellent organisation – a major renovation and expansion had been planned. The main building is now undergoing refurbishment: façade and roof repairs, upgrades to technical systems, improved ventilation, and adjustments to meet new safety and accessibility standards. Beneath the courtyard, a brand-new underground wing is being built, adding several thousand square metres of usable space. It will house temporary exhibitions, workshop areas, a restaurant and technical facilities. The idea is that this will allow the museum to host larger and more diverse events year-round.

In recent years, museums – especially national ones – have been rethinking their role. No longer just guardians of artefacts, they are increasingly becoming social spaces: places for dialogue, education, community engagement and even leisure. The National Museum of Finland seems to be following this trend. The planned underground wing with workshop rooms, a restaurant and flexible exhibition spaces reflects this shift. But it also raises a question: is this still a national museum in the traditional sense, or is it becoming more of a cultural meeting point, like the nearby Oodi library?

The new version of the museum is scheduled to open in spring 2027. Until then, parts of the collection will be displayed in other institutions. As for me – I’m glad I managed to visit at the very last possible moment, because despite the chaos of my experience, I was still able to grasp the broader context of Finnish history.