Viljami Heinonen, In the Beginning, 2023, oil on canvas. Photo: Serlachius, Sampo Linkoneva

On the Edge of Humanity

Asko Mäkelä, Art HistorianThe central focus of Viljami Heinonen’s art is shifted to the human being, with nature serving as a backdrop. Perhaps the most profound and visible failure of humanity lies in the devastation we have wrought—on both the natural world and human life—through climate change and war.

Vesilahti embodies the lush beauty of the Häme countryside at its finest—it is a place that radiates happiness. I journey there alongside artist Viljami Heinonen—whom I’ll simply call Viljami—in his unassuming Toyota. The summer day is golden as we pass rolling fields, horse farms, and glimmering lakes. A sign for Laukko Manor flashes by. Our destination: a former car repair shop perched on the shores of Lake Pyhäjärvi, where Viljami now paints.

In Viljami’s studio—which is anything but spacious—we talk about everyday life, computer games, art history, heavy metal, and Finnish rock. The space feels even smaller when contrasted with the monumental scale of his paintings, which he must constantly shuffle around to make room for new canvases. Although his work finds appreciative buyers, financial success has so far eluded him. Still, he has managed to install proper air conditioning—a crucial upgrade, for a severe allergy once nearly ended his ability to paint. Life in Vesilahti has restored a welcome sense of calm.

I meet Viljami’s neighbour, the poet Olli Soininen, who rolls up in the yard in his wheelchair. Famed for his colourful turn of phrase, Olli once remarked that minimalism is a style best suited to those who are perfect themselves. Viljami, for his part, embraces the imperfect—the human—and that’s exactly how his subjects appear in his paintings. He paints what moves him, what speaks to him on a personal level. Why waste time on trivialities, when you can paint something that truly matters? 

His paintings seem to emerge from the tension between the abstract and the representational, radiating the unstable energy that defines his artistic vision.

In his new series of paintings for his solo show at Serlachius, Viljami explores encounters—people confronting both themselves and others weathered by life, set against natural landscapes that seem to be reclaiming space from humanity. A sensitive soul, Viljami struggled with environmental anxiety in his youth, and concern for the planet is an ever-present theme that continues to subtly inform his work. His paintings portray a small-town community that is far from idyllic, echoing places like Vesilahti, or Kankaanpää, where Viljami studied art. He is drawn to the rhythms of small-town life—a world he finds deeply relatable.

Artists can be divided into three broad groups. The first rejects representationalism, embracing abstraction and conceptualism. The second seeks to capture reality through figurative realism. The third hovers somewhere in between, suspended between mental impressions and everyday experience. Viljami’s work inhabits this in-between space. His paintings seem to emerge from the tension between the abstract and the representational, radiating the unstable energy that defines his artistic vision.

I find myself wondering: are these emotionally charged works depictions of experiences, or are they experiences in and of themselves?

Artist Viljami Heinonen. Photo: Serlachius, Sampo Linkoneva

Immersed in the Process

Art invariably reflects the personality of its creator. Viljami’s charcoal drawings feel unforced and relaxed, marked by a confident command of line. The large scale of his canvases suits the natural arc of his hand, allowing for expressive movement. His compositions are rich in spatial complexity: perspectives are at once distorted and yet loosely anchored in the logic of central perspective. Spatiality becomes a playground—one in which Viljami delights in bending the rules. His drawings explore a nuanced range of midtones, highlights, and shadows, conjuring the same delicate visual magic as subtle watercolours. His exceptional draftsmanship also unifies the compositions in his paintings.

Painting is typically a process quite distinct from drawing. It unfolds through a continual state of transition—one colour supplants another, and forms are repeatedly transfigured in pursuit of a more expressive vision. Through endless polishing, the artist gradually strives toward a perfect articulation of an idea.

Viljami’s paintings radiate a powerful expressiveness, charged with dynamic energy.

Sometimes a painting comes together as spontaneously as a drawing, in merely a few hours. Then, after rapt engagement, the artist steps back, as surprised and amazed by the result as the viewers who will later admire it. These works emerge without a clear plan—they are born from a sudden flash of inspiration and only the vaguest intimation of where they might lead. As the painting takes shape on its own, Viljami himself steps aside, becoming, as it were, a mere intermediary for his hands. 

Viljami’s paintings radiate a powerful expressiveness, charged with dynamic energy. His brushwork is physical and immersive, leaving behind raw, unpolished traces that document the act of painting—even if the process itself remains unseen. Vivid greens, yellows, and pinks lend a cheerful brightness that contrasts strikingly with the often serious themes, creating a compelling visual tension. The influence of Howard Hodgkin is evident in both the palette and brushwork, while soft pastel tones recall the Slovenian landscapes of Viljami’s student years. His thoughtful use of materials and textures reinforces the thematic core of each work.

Viljami’s works are, above all, paintings of figures that seem to enter and exit the canvas through the very act of painting. Their emotions, too, are expressed in pigment that seems to spill and explode from within them, their forms melting into paint. It appears as if the painting itself were returning the squeezed dollops of pigment back to their original form, back into the paint tube, folding the act of painting into the broader cycles of life. The intentional splashes, drips, and blobs of colour accentuate the painting’s materiality, reminding us that we are looking at an object as much as an image.

The legacy of art history is deeply embedded in Viljami’s work. His paintings are rich with echoes of past masters, while also posing a conscious challenge to his artistic predecessors. The influence of such figures as Francis Bacon, Jarmo Mäkilä, and Heikki Marila is apparent in his painterly approach. While their themes and techniques are not cited directly, their impact is unmistakable, serving both as inspiration and a springboard for Viljami’s own direction. As he himself puts it, one must find a personal perspective on one’s role models and build upon what they have taught—while also making a clear break with tradition.

These historic influences form a kind of toolbox to borrow from, adapt, and reinvent. The real challenge lies in building coherence from elements that often pull in multiple directions. But when everything comes together, the result is indeed compelling.

Viljami Heinonen painting in his studio.

Fury of the paintbrush

Music is a major source of inspiration for Viljami. It plays loudly in the background as he paints, propelling the flighty rhythms of his brush. While literature plays a lesser role in his creative world, song lyrics hold all the greater significance. The titles of his works, too, carry weight, adding deeper layers of meaning.

Viljami aims to complete each painting in a single session, working with a single, thickly applied layer of paint. He begins by sketching the main elements of the composition in charcoal, then covers the figures with a protective mask to shield them during the early stages. Next, he lays down the base colours—thinner and more transparent—establishing the overall palette. From there, he immerses himself in the process, delving ever deeper into the evolving image.

The dominant colour in each of Viljami’s paintings acts like the classical piano line in Savatage’s Gutter Ballet—it carries the theme, anchoring the composition. Every brushstroke and splash of paint serves a deliberate purpose, tying together the structure of the painting. Each gesture comes with the risk of striking a wrong chord: it is crucial to choose precisely the right colour and to apply it in exactly the right place.

Viljami often squeezes pigment directly onto the canvas from the tube or daubs it straight from his palette. Broad brushstrokes lead off the composition, followed by scraping and pounding of the textured pigment. Viljami’s goal is to create the visual equivalent of a Children of Bodom song—relentless in pace from the get-go, held together with astonishing control, much like Alexi Laiho’s brilliant guitar work, preserving intact its raw, unfiltered edge. In Viljami’s brushwork, classical painting technique collides with the punk energy of Kollaa Kestää’s single-chord guitar riffs. 

Every brushstroke and splash of paint serves a deliberate purpose, tying together the structure of the painting.

Each painting begins with an emotional spark that builds with the furious intensity of a melodic heavy metal track, evoking the structure of a song like Gamma Ray’s Rebellion in Dreamland. Viljami’s deliberately splattered paint, splodges of colour, and drizzled pigments serve as his visual orchestration, echoing the crash of cymbals or the sharp punctuation of drumbeats beneath a wall of heavy guitar.

The process is driven by the euphoria of mental momentum, with the thrill of creative flow guiding his hand and colour choices. He paints in sync with the natural rhythms of his body, letting his hands dance instinctively toward the emerging image. With full-bodied engagement, he crosses into the realm of painting, immersing himself in the dynamic act of splattering, smearing, slashing, and crashing colours, creating an explosion that echoes the sonic energy of Helloween’s Eagle Fly Free. But where the band wields guitars and drums, Viljami commands brushes, rags, and palette knives. 

Finally, the artist carefully removes the protective mask with his palette knife and begins painting the figures, finishing off with a few essential touches to complete the composition. As his last gesture, he places, with precision, a final daub of paint—like a drummer landing that final, resonant beat that lingers in the air, sealing the mood of the song.

Viljami admits that maintaining control of a painting’s structure can be challenging: “It’s so easy to get carried away and go overboard. That’s when the structure falls apart and the splashes start to land in the wrong places. Sometimes it only takes the slightest wrong move. Then you have to undo the mistake and find a new direction. Calm yourself. Reorganise the colours. Slow down. Certain areas may need to be painted over and redone multiple times.” In this process, the initial goal of completing the painting in a single session often fades—and something unexpected begins to take shape, sometimes surprising even the artist himself.

Viljami Heinonen, Paper Tiger, 2024, oli on canvas. Photo: Serlachius, Sampo Linkoneva

Laukko Manor Engulfed in Jungle

Viljami’s new works for the Serlachius exhibition draw from an earlier series of large-scale, nature-themed paintings he created at Laukko Manor during the summer of 2022. These pieces incorporate imagery evoking the natural scenery of Vesilahti and memories of his childhood. What began as depictions of local vegetation gradually evolved into a dense jungle layered with the artist’s reflections on climate change. By colliding strict geometrical frameworks with fluid, gestural brushwork, Viljami fused together interior and exterior spaces, generating a dynamic interplay of compositional tension. The colour palette recalls that of his 2012 graduation work, Organic Compound, an abstract exploration in colourism. A testament to his remarkable productivity, Viljami completed these monumental paintings within a matter of months—a pace he has sustained in his most recent work as well.

In near-abstract compositions defined by expressive, gestural brushwork, Viljami relegated the human figure to a minor, passive role in relation to nature. “Had I stuck with expressionism back then,” he reflects, “my nature scenes would eventually have evolved into pure landscapes, devoid of human figures.” Instead, he allowed nature to sprawl freely, engulfing human-made spaces, overtaking both the surface of the canvas and the world depicted upon it. In the process of shaping a unified visual language and coherent thematic focus, Viljami was curious to see how far this simple, clear-cut theme could be pushed and refined. As a result, paintings that differed conspicuously in structure or form began to resonate like variations on a single melody. The lush, green jungle became such a dominant, unifying visual theme that the works could easily be hung side by side, their individual narratives emerging from the same vegetal world.

The artist then began to construct haunting visions of climate change and its grim impact, both on humanity and on his own psyche. His paintings depict nature in the aftermath of human decline, showing traces of civilization being slowly reclaimed by the wild. An innocent nature outing unfolds against a violently shifting landscape, evoking a fleeting moment of beauty before collapse. The mood recalls the final scene of Lars von Trier’s Melancholia, in which a giant meteor illuminates the earth with its blinding light just seconds before the world is plunged into darkness.

Viljami then began revisiting and reconfiguring his signature themes in new and unexpected ways. One such motif is the horse—portrayed not as the majestic steed of rulers, as in traditional history painting, but rather as a symbol of human suffering, like the dying horse in Picasso’s Guernica. In his paintings, the disintegration of an anxious mind is mirrored in the way the human figure dissolves into paint—a theme most vividly articulated in Viljami’s 2023 exhibition at Galerie Forsblom. Through the fractured forms of his figures, Viljami seeks to show that not everything is necessarily well—not even in a beautiful painting. For him, it is essential that even a technically accomplished, visually striking work can still carry the weight of difficult truths. It may hang on a wall as a quiet reminder of unresolved issues—and, later, when those issues have been addressed, the painting remains, bearing witness to what has been overcome. It stands as a testament, urging us never to repeat the same mistakes again.

Viljami Heinonen, Blood Grows in Green, 2024, alkyd on canvas. Photo: Serlachius, Sampo Linkoneva

Figures Fractured by Pain

In the Serlachius exhibition, Viljami has entered a new chapter in his thematic evolution. While his paintings still carry an undercurrent of dystopian unease, his brushwork has grown more fluid, his compositions evoking a spaciousness reminiscent of the colour-driven works of Eric Fischl or Richard Diebenkorn. The once-prominent influences of other artists have now been absorbed and tempered by the increasingly distinctive qualities of Viljami’s own voice. There is a sense that he is now commenting on his earlier work—juxtaposing raw themes and bold techniques in an unexpectedly serene resolution.

The central focus has now shifted to the human being, with nature serving as a backdrop. Once again, we are invited to reflect on how society shapes the human mind. Perhaps the most profound and visible failure of humanity lies in the devastation we have wrought—on both the natural world and human life—through climate change and war. In the aftermath of such calamities, what meaning does life still hold? Viljami’s paintings grapple with a haunting sense of confusion: how did we allow this destruction to happen?

Peter Brook’s writings on theatre director Jerzy Grotowski could just as easily apply to Viljami’s work. Like an actor, the visual artist serves as an intermediary, offering the audience a kind of sacrifice through their paintings. A painter does not shy away from self-exposure, for the true mystery of painting lies in the artist’s willingness to unveil their innermost truths. Viljami’s paintings invite the viewer into a ceremonial experience—one in which the artist summons and reveals what resides deep within all of us, yet remains hidden in the routines of daily life.

Viljami Heinonen painting in his studio.

Like the cross-cuts of a film montage, the perspectives in Viljami’s paintings shift fluidly from one space to another, echoing the psychological states they depict. Drawing on the dreamlike logic of surrealism, animals and human figures morph into one another, acting as intermediaries between realms. They are interwoven into a larger entity in which the apparent chaos of expressionism threatens to disrupt the composition and yet, simultaneously, that same chaos establishes the emotional tone. Dominating each scene are abstract fields of colour—like clouds encircling a moment—invoking flickering images that pass through the mind, stirring an unnamed sense of unease.

The exorcistic quality of Viljami’s paintings echoes the refrains of heavy music. The dramatic, outwardly theatrical interplay of guitars, drums, and organs can be imagined as summoning something dark, bordering on the satanic. This unsettling energy reaches into the shadowy corners of the self, stirring the latent evil within, awakening a primal longing for protection. In both music and painting, exorcism becomes a shared act—directed at the creator and the audience alike—urging both to open themselves and confront buried traumas, much like facing down an enemy in a video game. This ritual unfolds on the fragile threshold between heaven and hell, grounded on earth—in the very midst of human life.

Viljami’s paintings possess a pensive, almost frozen atmosphere—as if the scene had been abruptly suspended, and everyone within it transported to another time and place.

Many of Viljami’s paintings seem to draw their power from the tension between the everyday and the sacred. “Pain has returned to my new paintings at Serlachius,” he notes. “I don’t mean the image should be gloomy, but it should taste like life.” His art carries the same raw pain and melancholy found in punk, heavy metal, and Finnish rock. As Jussi Hakulinen once remarked, “To make a name for yourself, you must die first.” In Western cultural history, redemption is achieved through suffering—a theme vividly illustrated in Christian iconography, which has fascinated Viljami since childhood. Pain is an inescapable part of being human, yet it is something we fear. But if pain is denied, what substance remains in the image?

Viljami’s paintings possess a pensive, almost frozen atmosphere—as if the scene had been abruptly suspended, and everyone within it transported to another time and place. This sense of stillness is heightened by the depth of the composition, with the vanishing point receding deep into the image. The seamless colour gradations between foreground and background further sustain the illusion of spatial depth.

Viljami might portray convivial scenes like a backyard gathering around a grill or campfire, yet something about them always feels deeply unsettling. The fragility of everyday life gradually comes into raw focus as the viewer takes in the jarring details. It takes only the slightest shift for a seemingly cheerful moment to unravel. A relaxed gathering collapses with a single misplaced word, and the mood pivots sharply into estrangement, the protagonist suddenly cast out, transformed into a pariah. Final Act captures the grim contradiction between outward appearances of success and underlying vulgarity. The hyena-like creature raging atop the table evokes a scene from Ruben Östlund’s film The Square, in which a Russian performance artist confronts an audience of affluent collectors with genuine danger, rupturing the safe, tidy spectacle they were anticipating. In Viljami’s painting, it is furthermore unclear what is being consumed at the banquet—the table itself resembles a coffin.

Viljami Heinonen, Other Side, 2024, oil on canvas. Photo: Serlachius, Sampo Linkoneva

The Sheltering Yellow Raincoat 

Viljami’s paintings captivate with their beauty, yet confront us with themes we prefer to avoid: climate anxiety, the devastation of war, and the coarseness of human nature. His paintings offer no definitive answers. Instead, like a reclusive philosopher, they quietly pose unending questions—questions the viewer is left to grapple with alone. For, in the end, the viewer is not merely a witness, but a complicit participant in the very realities the paintings reflect.

Serving as a kind of protective talisman against destruction in Viljami’s paintings is the yellow raincoat—a recurring motif inspired by a music video from Ultra Bra. His recent works portray a raincoat-clad protagonist who is shielded from religious zealotry and abuse of power by those who refuse to desert them, as if echoing a line from an Ultra Bra song: “We will protect you from everything.” The raincoat motif echoes earlier works such as This… Incident (2019) and Metamorphosis (2020), which depict figures wearing bright yellow rubber gloves because the earth has become so contaminated that it can no longer be touched with bare hands. Saliently, in his new paintings, the raincoated figure is not human, but animal.

As noted earlier, Viljami has a particular interest in the Passion of Christ, and the raincoat-clad figure can be seen as a kind of Christ-like counterpart—a being whose path winds through pain and suffering toward liberation. Beneath the raincoat, we witness a figure locked in a struggle, caught in thick, expressive strokes of paint, resisting the pull from human form into raw animality. This battle can be read as a metaphor for the collective trauma of the climate crisis—an affliction of our own making. For Viljami, art offers a means of confronting such trauma. It gives us the strength to endure and reminds us that we must not—and cannot—give up.

Is, then, the image merely a representation of an experience, or is it an experience in itself? The artist may not be the most reliable guide in answering this question, for it is ultimately the viewer who defines the nature of the encounter. Only the viewer can truly say what the painting evokes in them—what it stirs, what it mirrors. The artist acts more as a signpost along the way, pointing toward the troubling realisation that we are losing the very foundations of life. And yet—perhaps it is not too late. Can we still change course?

Art historian Michael Baxandall has argued that the forms and styles of 16th-century Renaissance painting were shaped in response to the social conditions of the time. A similar logic seems to apply to Viljami’s work, which sharpens our perception of early 21st-century society and its impact on the individual. What unfolds in his paintings is not distant or abstract—it is happening here and now, in modern-day Finland.And, like the abrupt, jarring end of Children of Bodom’s song In Your Face, the narrative closes with the striking image presented in Incubation: beneath a blazing sky, a monkey-like figure locks eyes with its own reflection, in unsettling recognition.

Viljami Heinonen’s exhibition Somewhere in Between on show at Serlachius Headquarters from 13 September 2025 to 30 August 2026.

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