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© Aino Väänänen

Pushing Through Concrete

Dandelions is the long-term documentary photography project by Berlin-based Finnish artist Aino Väänänen, presented for the first time as an exhibition as part of the Finnland-Institut's Visiting Art/ist programme. Since 2018, Väänänen has been documenting the lives of people affected by the opioid crisis in Romania – individuals living with or at risk of HIV, many of whom face systemic marginalisation and social stigma. Through long-term commitment and a shift from classic photojournalism to a slower, more collaborative approach, Dandelions offers an honest yet compassionate view into the everyday realities of those often left unseen. The project remains ongoing, as Väänänen returns regularly to Romania, maintaining contact with many of the people she photographs.

 

“I was curious to travel to Romania,” Aino Väänänen says, reflecting on the project’s origins. “My background is in Southeast European studies, but I realised I didn’t know very much about Romania.” Her first trip in 2017 led her to Bucharest, where, through contacts, she was introduced to a social worker driving an ambulance that provided help to people struggling with opioid addiction. “It was through those ambulance rides that this world opened up to me. I met people. I heard life stories. And sometimes people, especially women, would show me their scars. It felt like a way to say, without common language, what they’ve been through.”  

Dandelions has evolved from a more traditional photojournalistic approach to what Väänänen calls an “immersive” style. Initially working with a digital camera, she soon transitioned to medium format film photography, a shift that deepened her engagement with the people she photographs. “This method of working helped me to slow down and conveyed to the protagonists that this is something different; this is not just a quick photo and me travelling away, but a commitment to telling stories.”  

Trust and continuity are fundamental to Väänänen’s project, and she regularly returns to Romania and keeps in touch with many of her subjects. She seeks to create conditions for genuine encounters by spending several days with each person she photographs. “There is a lot of trust involved on both sides of the lens,” she notes. “It’s a very vulnerable topic, so I hope I’ve done some justice to the stories of the people.”  

Rather than focusing solely on despair, Dandelions emphasises survival, dignity, and complexity. “I wanted to show people that the situation isn’t just hopeless. People overcome very desperate situations. I wanted to focus on the survival aspect and document it in an honest but compassionate way.” The choice of visual language reflects these themes. Repeated motifs include hands and arms featuring tattoos, scars and blocked veins. “Hands show life and lived experiences. They communicate stories, like Denisa’s tattoo of a poppy flower – that produces opium – with a skull inside.”  

The subjects of Dandelions are portrayed with agency and depth, such as Roxana, who began using drugs in the early 2000s – part of what she calls the “first generation” to access narcotics after the fall of Ceaușescu’s regime. Or Ramona, a woman who proudly showed the scar from her ovarian cancer surgery, which for her was a mark of survival: “After being denied treatment multiple times for her background as female, Romani, opioid addict, and sex worker, and being in really dire straits, she eventually found a doctor who would operate on her. That saved her life.”  

The project includes individuals with a wide range of living conditions, from homelessness to multigenerational housing. “Most of the people in my project are not homeless,” Väänänen explains. “Some struggle with having a place to live, some experiencing long-term homelessness. I wanted to show the variety in the background and that opioid addiction is something that concerns people across a variety of socio-economic backgrounds.”  

One story is that of S, a transgender man who moved to Bucharest in order to access methadone treatment, unavailable in his hometown Iași. His story, like many in the exhibition, speaks to systemic gaps in healthcare, compounded by discrimination. “He’s been living in Bucharest now for a couple of years, and has been struggling with substance abuse. He’s managed to quit heroin now, and is very chuffed about that. He sent me a voice note saying he’s finally managed it with the help of photography, which makes me extra happy.” Beyond the photographs, the exhibition features an audio installation composed of field notes, voice messages, and recorded conversations. “It’s an ongoing discussion that I have with the people that I photograph,” she says.  

Väänänen also reflects on the ethics and politics of representation. “There have been some photographers – local and foreign – photographing people without asking for their permission. That’s not something I’m interested in. For me what’s crucial is that the people I photograph consent, and they understand what they are participating in.” For Väänänen, the myth of the ‘objective’ observer, “a fly on the wall” approach in contemporary documentary photography, is fading. “There is always a narrative. I’m not fully removing myself from this – we’re having a conversation.”  

Many of her subjects are part of the Romani community or have experienced deep personal and intergenerational trauma. “There are these specificities to the Romanian stories,” she notes, citing examples such as the Decree 770, which banned abortion under the Ceaușescu regime, leading to Romania’s orphanage crisis. “There’s a lot of pain and trauma that people carry, and this, I felt, has been important to convey.”  

Despite the intensity of the subject matter, Dandelions avoids sensationalism. Väänänen’s work instead inhabits a careful balance: one that is intimate yet respectful, critical yet humane. “I think big topics require time,” she reflects. “There’s something about the will to survive, to overcome the most desperate situations, which is so moving. It feels like it’s a topic that just won’t let me go.”  

That is how the project came to be named Dandelions. Like the flower – which pushes its way through cracks in concrete, able to grow in the harshest conditions driven by a relentless will to survive – the people on the other side of Väänänen’s lens embody that same resilience, overcoming desperate situations.  

© Aino Väänänen

Aino Väänänen is a Berlin-based visual storyteller and documentary photographer whose work explores themes of social (in)justice with sensitivity and raw authenticity. Through long-term documentary projects, she has investigated subjects such as the opioid crisis in Romania, LGBTQI+ communities in Russia and Ukraine, and environmental changes in Northern Scandinavia. Väänänen’s work has been exhibited internationally, and she was named Artist of the Year 2022 by the Northern Photographic Centre. She is also the publisher of the independent photography zine We Shall See, has taught photography, and serves as a member of the Red Cross communication reserve. Väänänen holds a Master’s degree in Slavic and Southeast European Studies from the University of Helsinki, with a focus on the Balkan region.  

 

The exhibition is open at the Finnland-Institut from March 7 to May 28, 2025, on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 11 AM to 7 PM, and by appointment. We warmly invite you to the closing event of the exhibition May 28, 6–9 PM.

 

Ida Piri ist zurzeit als Volontärin am Finnland-Institut tätig. Sie hat diesen Beitrag redaktionell betreut.

Ida Piri on parhaillaan harjoittelijana Suomen Saksan-instituutissa. Hän on editoinut tämän jutun.

Ida Piri är för närvarande praktikant vid Finlandsinstitutet i Tyskland. Hon har redigerat denna text. 

Ida Piri, who has edited this article, is currently doing an internship at the Finnland-Institut.

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